


My North Star

by 2Atoms



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: (Ish) - Freeform, Because we dont do creativity in this house, F/F, Katya is a crazy lady and i - for one - am in love with her, Kidnapping, Pirate and the Princess AU, Pirate!Katya, Princess!Trixie, Romance, Slow Burn, trixya au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-11-12 14:00:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18012275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Atoms/pseuds/2Atoms
Summary: Katya had always lived her life watching the stars, hiding in the crow's nest, letting the world sail by. Then her crew kidnap a beautiful princess, and she struggles keep her gaze skyward.





	1. Chapter 1

Katya couldn’t sleep without the swell of the ocean. It rocked her to sleep like an attentive mother, sometimes it quieted, or the magnitude of each rock increased, but it never ceased. Wrapped in the weight of her heaviest leather coat, warm even with the chill that cut through the crow’s nest, she let her head rest against the mast of the ship.

They weren’t in any danger. She knew that. She’d always had an uncanny sense of direction, the stars guiding her unfailingly in every aspect of her life.

The ship was familiar. She knew every loose board and exactly where the rigging held on to the mast. She could climb up to the crow's nest in the darkest night, could sense every loose rope and change in angle on the sails. Tonight was inky black, the moon barely providing any light. Still, she knew the other women were below decks, drinking and playing cards and licking their wounds from the battle earlier. She could hear the ruckus of their gambling and laughing, an occasional chant rising up from below the floorboards.

They’d boarded a royal vessel, an exciting break from the standard trading ships they usually pirated. The security had been impressive, armed soldiers and a passionate royal guard, but the soldiers were obviously inexperienced seafarers. The ship had been raided before they even loaded their cannons.

Despite the prestige of the passengers and the infamous house crest, their spoils had been disappointing. As Shangela had shouted to her across the deck, the only thing of worth was their royal passenger: a princess.

She was a beautiful woman. That was probably expected of a princess, but there was something particularly captivating about Princess Beatrice. Even with ragged, unbrushed hair and kohl smudging down her face under wide, innocent eyes. She must have been in her late teens, perhaps pushing into her early twenties. It was hard to tell. Katya didn’t know much about her, merely that she was incredibly wealthy, and second in line to inherit her kingdom.

Beatrice was a uniquely powerful woman, and yet she sobbed like a child below decks. Katya had seen it earlier, could hear whimpers if she strained, punctuating the taunts of the pirates in the common area. There was another roar of laughter from the ship beneath her, and Katya smiled along with them. It seemed unusually cruel for her crew to be taunting a recently-kidnapped young woman, but damn it sounded fun. She didn’t feel like it today, though.

As the night wore on, the air getting colder and the sea becoming rougher, Katya found herself restless, unable to sleep. The open ocean offered no threats to them. Other boats seldom sailed these waters and even those who did found themselves diverting their courses to avoid the infamous crew. The ship had been gaining notoriety for years, almost as soon as they’d set sail, raiding and pirating as the first all-female crew on the seas.

At every port they encountered pirates begging to join, women from other crews who wanted a better lifestyle surrounded by fellow women. It was contradictory, to be celebrating the empathy brought about by being surrounded by women, on a ship famed for ruthlessness and piracy. Their moral code may have been skewed, but it was firm. There had never been any tolerance for breaches of the original crew's morals. The ship was a mess, but it was run with competence and a sense of authority that the younger girls would question at their own peril.

Just a few hours before sunrise, all the women had finally found their way to their hammocks, their heads probably spinning and bracing for a morning of hungover work. Still unable to rest, Katya opted to take a break, clambering down the mast to the ship floor.

The undulations of the wave were less extreme closer to the sea’s surface, and didn’t Katya even stumble as she walked to the inside of the ship, loosening her coat around her shoulders. The night was long, but it was her favourite time aboard the ship, alone on the inky black ocean whilst the others slept.  As Katya headed below decks, she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. She didn’t want for water or tasteless food, and yet she still creaked open the dining area door until she found herself shielded from the ocean air, stood in front of their prisoner.

Perhaps it was the urge to stare at the Princess Beatrice, maybe just checking she hadn’t escaped, or seeing that she was being treated alright. She knew the women wouldn’t physically hurt her, at least on purpose, but drunk and overexcited from a vicious raid on the royal ship, she couldn't trust them to contain their rowdiness.

The ship didn’t have a proper prison. It was only comprised of a common dining area, sleeping quarters for the girls, and quarters for the captain which Katya occasionally invited herself into. Without can adequate jail cell, the crew had opted to tie Beatrice to one of the ship’s below-deck support beams, and thrown her a ragged blanket for a minimal sense of comfort.

Ropes held her wrists together, and then wrapped around the beam, not letting her move. The girl looks miserable, beyond exhausted and her limbs awkwardly knotted. The dress she wore was gorgeous, perhaps silk, long around her arms and flowing, a delicate and outrageously expensive lilac colour, now covered in grime and mead from the cabin floor. Katya could see rips in the material, perhaps from cutlass swipes or rough handling, or the splinters from the floor.

Golden hair, sweat slicked and rough from the sea air, hung down her face. She had the longest hair Katya had ever seen, reaching the floor in messy curls that would certainly be tangling by now. She looked half asleep, head uncomfortable tilted forward. Her lips looked parched.

Water stocks had recently been replenished, and there were a half dozen barrels onboard. If the princess hadn't been offered anything to drink, it was through cruelty. Katya poured herself some of the water, using a clean tankard she left atop the stacked barrels, and settled herself down in front of their kidnapped princess, watching as she awoke. After barely a second, Beatrice seemed to get her bearings, scowling up at Katya and attempting to loosen up her shoulders. It looked painful, the way she was bound.

Katya squatted next to her, offering her the cup. Beatrice tried to take it, but her wrists were bound together too tightly. Instead, Katya crept forward, gently tilting the cup to her lips to allow the woman to drink.

She chugged the water down graciously, but didn’t thank Katya when she was done. That was understandable, the pirate felt. It wasn’t like one act of kindness undid what the princess had gone through. What she would continue to go through at the hands of Katya’s crewmates.

“You were not down here, earlier. During the drinking.”

Beatrice’s voice was clear as glass, each word clearly enunciated in a way that Katya assumed to take a huge amount of effort. She must have been trained since birth, to speak like that, even through her fear and exhaustion. Katya wondered if she could even understand their pirates’ brogue. She made an effort to enunciate, speaking with the clearest English she could manage.

“I wasn’t. I hope they were not too rowdy.”

She wasn’t certain, but she thought that she saw the princess flinch. This must be a culture shock, for her. To go from being waited upon banquet hall to the unruly underdecks of a pirate ship. Katya didn’t know much of how the royals lived, only that they wanted for nothing and owned near enough everything. She imagined the princess to have soft hands, never working in her life, and velvety, pampered skin which would not fare well in her current state.

“They were a little… boisterous.”

She chewed out her words, staring down at the floor with her legs drawn close. Katya chuckled.

“I am sorry about them, but they’re good women. I trust they did not hurt you?”

Beatrice shrugged, and it looked painful. She looked pointedly at her wrists. They had been bound with the rough rope normally used for securing goods, hanging sails. It would chafe. Still, Katya knew it must be more than that. The princess had been taken from her crew – the royal boat and most of those aboard had survived, but many were grievously injured and without a single piece of the food or gold they’d set sail with. Even the royal crests had been stolen. The pain was physical, but the emotional pain must sting far deeper.

“How are you feeling?”

Katya really cared. She could scarcely believe it, but she was concerned about the woman. She really cared how the princess felt. After all, she was a fellow human being, a fellow woman, kept tied up like a dog. Katya had never known the crew to kidnap anyone other than a pirate before. Let alone a young woman. The princess looked near enough broken. Tears were already welling up in her eyes, and as she tried to move Katya glimpsed the places where the rope rubbed circles raw around her delicate wrists.

“I am… a little afraid.” She admitted, looking up at Katya with huge, fearful eyes.

“That’s understandable. I am so sorry, again.”

Tears streamed from her eyes, beginning to eat into the dark eye-makeup and grime streaked across her face. Katya resisted the urge to reach out and hug her, to offer some compassion where she was so obviously afraid and lonely. She couldn’t, though. It wasn’t her place. Katya tried to stay away from the internal politics of the boat, to avoid the conflict that younger girls often thrived on. She knew that to help the girl would be a grave betrayal. That losing the bounty Shangela and Dela expected would see her thrown from the ship, perhaps with her head, perhaps not. Still, watching how tears and snot smeared her face, the way the Princess tried to remain composed as she gasped for breath, Katya was tempted to risk it all.

Katya was one of the veteran pirates on this crew. She’d been there when the half dozen original girls bought the ship, all of them young, soft-handed, soft-willed and innocent, she’d helped them steal enough to buy it. If newer recruits thought she was weird – the dreamer who stared up at the stars from the typically-unpopular crow’s nest – the more senior pirates quickly set them straight. She suspected the two remaining original pirates, Dela and Shangela, trusted Katya more than each other.

The ship was changing, though. Each corner held a memory of a lost friend, of a grievous injury or a failure. This ship was full of ghosts, and the princess broke up the monotony and chaos, a rare light in the darkness and dankness underneath the sea-water soaked deck.

Katya reached a single hand out, offering a little comfort. When Beatrice did not recoil, she settled on the dirty ground beside her, clasping the girl’s bound hands with one of her own.

“May I have another drink?” 

The princess' voice was so quiet, timid, that Katya barely caught it above the waves breaking on the bow outside. Nonetheless, she got off the floor to fetch more to drink.

“Of course.”

*

It felt like an eternity passed before the princess’ crying ceased, the two of them sharing a flagon of water that Katya poured between two cups. The younger woman finally began to drift off to sleep, and Katya loathed to disrupt her, but she could not get caught. The crew would return to their posts as soon as they awoke, and Katya knew she must return to hers.

“I’ll bid you a good night, Princess Beatrice.”

Katya was reluctant to leave, but they both needed to rest. As she stood, she heard the girl clear her throat.

“My friends call me Trixie...”

Katya was silent, evaluating the princess’ red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks.

“… and so I should like you to call me Trixie.” She finished, chin stuck out in a way that seemed far more befitting of a princess than her previous behaviour been.

“I’m Katya, Trixie.” The pirate replied, with a smile.

Katya had no doubts the princess was planning a way to escape. To befriend her was smart. Of course Trixie made smart decisions, she was a diplomat. Nonetheless, Katya saw some loneliness in the girl, something that made her believe Trixie genuinely saw her as an ally. Or at least, not as an enemy.

“ _Katya_. That’s not English, is it?”

Trixie pronounced her name strangely, strained it through the delicate sieve of her accent, but Katya found it quite endearing.

“No. Eastern European.”

She never liked to specify a country. Least of all, in front of nobility.

“Charming.”

Trixie’s response was genuine, if her polite smile was anything to go by. Katya matched her grin.

“Sleep well, Trixie.”

*

As the days wore on, Katya visited Trixie each night. She caught herself daydreaming, waiting for the other pirates to go to bed so she could be alone with the princess. As she visited the common room during the day, fetching water or food, hard tac and supplies, she’d catch glimpses of Trixie.

During the nights, Katya could talk with the princess until the sun rose and she was forced to scamper back up the ladder to her crow’s nest. They talked about Trixie’s life, about the crew members and about Katya. Why she never hung out with the other girls, what it was like being a pirate. Trixie listened intently, frequently telling Katya how much she looked forward to talking to her. Katya made every effort to lend her more blankets, too, sometimes loosening her ropes marginally or washing her face for her. She could tell, as the days passed, that the princess was struggling. She was clearly unused to the boring and stale food aboard a pirate ship. To the rocking of a ship, the endlessly boring days staring at the wooden walls. When she could, Katya would sneak her a drink during the day, or some of her food portion. She’d rearrange the blanket surrounding her, or sneak her a sympathetic look. Never with company present, though. Katya wouldn’t be seen to help the prisoner.

One night, when she was still dozing as the crew failed to sleep, Katya could hear jeering below decks. Although obscured by the roar of the ocean, there was blatantly something beyond the usual ruckus she was used to. Katya clambered down from the mast far faster than usual, jogging across the deck with barely a second thought. As she swung through the common room door, it became even more blatant that something was amiss.

Trixie was cowering, hunched over and hugging her legs in a way even more diminutive than the first night she’d arrived after being kidnapped. Above her, all of the pirates from aside the captains were on their feet, laughing at Trixie and teasing her. Dela and Shangela would be elsewhere, probably one asleep and the other steering the ship, and there was no one else with authority to regulate the women. Trixie must be terrified.

“What’s going on in here?” Katya demanded, slamming her heavy leather boot down to get the attention of the crew.

“ _Princess_ here was singing. We'd quite like an... encore.”

Aja spoke, and the other girls laughed along. They were all energetic, young, having joined the crew in the last couple of years. They were probably younger than Trixie. Katya suspected the mead was being quickly depleted. The women would be infuriated when it ran out, so in the meantime they were drinking as fast as they could, competing each night for the largest share. Katya could see why Dela and Shangela stayed out of it – most nights she did too.

Trixie had no personal space remaining, being pushed towards the beam by the legs and coats of various drunken crewmembers. There was a puddle of vomit near her, presumably of the newer recruits that couldn’t hold their alcohol at sea, and the shake of her shoulders told Katya that the girl was crying. All her pride appeared to have left her, been crushed down into nothing, dented like the worn wooden steps of the step.

“Little princess wants to sing,” a drunken Monet told her, tugging at the ropes that bound Trixie teasingly. “I think we should let her.”

The others cheered, tankards sloshing in the air, with laughs towards Trixie as they drank.

“C’mon, ladies. Surely we don’t need to make her sing?”

Katya tried to mediate, holding hands out in an attempt to calm them. Irrespective, there was a jeer from the crowd, one that Katya had expected. She was still angry, though, at the lack of respect her crew was showing for their captive. Although she was a prisoner, she was an expensive prisoner, and someone Katya felt compelled to defend. She would also make a dangerous enemy, one day.

They resumed their teasing, completely ignoring Katya, a gang of them leaning over the huddled woman bound on the floor.

“‘You crying again, princess?”

“You missing your mommy and daddy?”

“Don’t you wanna perform for us?”

Katya felt totally helpless, watching on in horror as a slow chant broke out, drunken and slurred, “Sing! Sing! Sing!”

The pirates crowded even closer to her, and Katya could only imagine the way Trixie would be recoiling on the floor, totally mortified.

Katya took a deep breath. She hated confronting the girls, felt much more content alone on top of the sails. Briefly, she considered fetching one of the other older crewmembers, someone who was a natural at authority and control. There wasn’t time though.

“Ladies!” she shouted.

Once again, they gave her their half-present attention, some swaying on their feet as they stood.

“Listen the fuck up! Some of us would like to be _sleeping_. You’re all working double tomorrow for this shit.”

They stared gormlessly. Monet hiccupped.

“I’d have all of you scrub the damn decks right now if I didn’t think you’d all fall overboard.”

A couple of the girls laughed, while others looked horrified. With one last bark of _go_ the girls scampered out of the room, and Aja was the last to leave. Katya grabbed her by the collar with a scowl, growling out:

“ _Clean that up._ ”

 She stood over Aja as she cleared up the vomit-covered floor near Trixie, wincing as the girl still sobbed, contorting her body uncomfortably to keep out of Aja’s way. Finally, with a bucket in hand, Aja stumbled out of the room, stormy-faced as she tried not to trip.

Then, they were left alone.

“Trixie?”

The girl’s matted hair covered her face from view, her dress far more torn than Katya had seen it the previous night. Katya listened, checking that the pirates had gone to bed before dragging a stool over, settling down beside the girl. She must have been in a world of pain. She’d been allowed up to briefly, infrequently to use the bathroom, always under the watchful eye of one of the other cruel pirates. Otherwise the princess had spent almost four days at and bound on the hard floor.

“Trixie, I’m so sorry.”     

The woman heaved out a sob, and Katya felt such strong empathy for her, she almost felt like crying herself. With one hand, she tried to guide Trixie’s face up so she could see it, but the princess flinched away. Katya retracted her hand away as if she’d been burned.

“Can you look at me?” Katya begged, trying to look over what parts of Trixie she could see.

It was difficult to judge if the girl was injured, or just incredibly upset. The welts on her wrists worsened as the days passed, and Katya caught her wincing each time she had to move her shoulders. It must have been painful.

“I’m going to untie you, okay?” 

Katya surprised herself, perhaps more than she surprised Trixie. 

It was a risk, but she hoped the other girls would have passed out by now, or be laid in their quarters lamenting Katya’s cruelness in spoiling their fun. It’s not like Trixie could run away, anyway. They were on a boat. Even if she could escape, the girl look so ill, so desperate and in so much pain that she couldn’t stand to let her stay in pain any longer. With slightly shaking hands, Katya undid the ropes binding Trixie’s wrists, careful not to damage the ties or the woman’s skin.

It looked like it might be too late for Trixie’s skin. The abrasions were worryingly deep, red raw, and looked incredibly sore, particularly judging by Trixie’s gasps as Katya brushed the wounds.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Trixie’s voice was hoarse, obviously worn out by her sobbing. Still, Katya was exceedingly glad to hear it.

“There. You can stretch now.”

She threw the ropes away in disgust, using both hands to help Trixie to her feet.

“Thank you.”

The princess was weak, from her dehydration and her position on the floor. As she stood, Katya could see that her legs were trembling, scattered with deep purple bruises, as though the colour had seeped from her now-destroyed gown into her pale skin. Red marks carved into her skin, both scratches and an imprint from the floor disturbing the planes of her skin. Her face was far more sunken than the day she’d first arrived, the lack of sleep visible in her expression as much as her purpled skin and reddened eyes.

The dress was barely recognisable now, tattered beyond all use with only the bodice in place. She evidently did not have sea legs, clinging on to both Katya and a table as she stumbled about. The contact, acting as Trixie's support, it made Katya feel something. The rest of the crew had complained about Trixie vomiting during the day, unable to stomach the smell of the ship and how it was thrown across the waves. She could only imagine how miserable the woman must be feeling.

“May I have a drink?” she asked, looking far more sheepish than Katya felt she had any right to.                                                                                        

Katya had never seen her standing before. The princess was around a hand taller than her, surprising her.

“Of course, honey.”

Trixie gave her a funny look, before trying to clamber over to the barrel she’d seen so many people use for water. The tap was tough, used to being manhandled by leather-handed pirates, and she failed to turn it for a few seconds before Katya jogged over and helped. Trixie watched, although her focus appeared to be more on the bulging muscles of Katya’s arms rather than the proper way to loosen the tap valve. She smirked as the water ran and Trixie finally snapped to attention, and clamoured for a cup to fill.

*

“Why are you such a friend to me, Katya? I can’t understand it.” Trixie looked concerned, perhaps afraid whatever spell kept Katya returning to her would break if she asked about it. The older woman thought for a moment.

“Because I don’t agree with how they are treating you. You haven’t fought back, even through all the cruelty these girls have put you though. Although I know you’re royalty, I’d hope you’d do the same for me.”

“I fear I would not be cut out for the lifestyle a pirate,” Trixie laughed in her dainty, performative way. Yet another piece of etiquette she must have been taught, Katya supposed. “But I should like to think so.”

Katya smiled laid a hand over the princess'.

“You’re far too pretty to be a pirate.”

*

Tying Trixie back up was surprisingly difficult. Her heart ached as she reknotted the rope, trying to wind it about Trixie’s wrists on the least sensitive patches of skin without making it look suspicious. She’d tried to wash the wounds whilst Trixie was free, running water across them and wishing she had a balm to soothe the pain and burning. Trixie stared down at the floor as she reknotted the rope, making Katya's hands shake.

Of all the things she’d done aboard this boat, they’d never kidnapped a woman before. Least of all a completely innocent, kind, young woman. They’d discussed the ransom money frequently: her, Dela and Shangela. She knew what Bianca would have done, had their old captain still been aboard. Bianca was hard as nails. She would’ve stood in front of the palace, ready to run the girl through with a sword if she wasn’t provided all the gold the King could scrounge together. But Dela wasn’t as bold, not as fearless. She’d plot and plan, consider all the options before choosing the least risky one.

The bombastic lifestyle she’d been so accustomed to with their old leader was toned down. It was safer, somewhat. No less crazy, but a bit more planned out and careful. 

She’d long considered leaving. The frequency with which she pondered going had increased lately. She often sat atop the crow’s nest, or clung to the ship’s rigging, stared up at the heavens and considered what her life could be like. On a different ship, perhaps even on land, find a decent woman and a not-quite-honest trade. She’d been on ships since she could walk, so used to the ebb and flow of the tides that it was the only place she’d called home.

Being surrounded by these people was lonely, though. As her old crewmates fell, the new ones who stepped aboard never filled their shoes.

It was never more blatant than when they’d discussed the ransom for Trixie. Or rather, for Princess Beatrice.

“How they hell are you intending to get a bounty for this girl?” Katya had demanded, the second they’d returned from the raid on the royal ship and heard there was one more passenger than expected.

“I’ll send a messenger. One of the newer girls can go, and she won’t return until they pay up. Then we put the princess on a boat and let the palace deal with her.” Shangela had defended.

The plan didn’t sound as thought through as Shangela was trying to suggest. Dela sat behind her desk, head in hands as she listened to the other two women.

“The palace is a long way inland.” Katya had grunted, helping herself to the rations on the desk in the captain’s quarters.

“Shit.”

Dela dropped her head on to the table. Apparently, taking a hostage was the idea of the younger girls’ ideas. Maybe they thought it would be exciting, or glamourous, but they were inexperienced and ultimately not in charge of the damn ship. The responsibility lay on the shoulders of their most knowledgeable crew. The three of them.

“We can just… get the money then dump her on a beach?” Shangela suggested, pacing the cabin.

Dela finally spoke up, rubbing at her temples.

“Shangela… that’s madness. They wouldn’t pay up. They’ll threaten to kill us, she’ll lead them back, and they’ll kill us all.”

“I trust her not to betray us.” Katya insisted.

“Do you?”

“Then your trust is misplaced.” The other two women spoke up simultaneously, and Katya backed down, both hands up.

“Then we’ll do Shangela’s idea. Sure.”

*

The next time they docked was to restock and send a ransom note to the palace. Their messenger was a pirate named Monet. She was one of the youngest, but had been onboard since the tender age of 15. She was trusted, fearless, loyal and had absolutely no qualms about fucking someone up with a cutlass. It took only a few hours for her to locate a rider who could carry both herself and their message to the kingdom. She agreed to go, to meet the ship at the next port once she’d had an audience with the king.

Katya felt the itch to run. To leave the ship behind and to find a new life on land. She didn’t, though. She hadn’t planned. She didn’t know anyone in the port. She didn’t know what she’d do or what she’d take.

And she’d worry for Trixie.

She’d visited the girl the next night, heard how the girls mocked her and embarrassed her, jeering as she begged for bathroom breaks or choked on the hard biscuit leftovers she was thrown. She had injuries from being fallen over, being pushed around the ship for chores, cleaning on her hands and knees. Each night after that, Trixie had new wounds, new laments which Katya listened to intently, pulling her close for comfort when needed after she untied the ropes. It was a dangerous game, she knew that, but sat up in the crow’s nest, knowing Trixie was alone and in pain, would have been impossible.

Trixie had stories. She made light of her suffering, even through tears, jokes that make Katya gasp as she tried to tend to Trixie’s wounds. She loved to listen to Katya. The pirate would spin tall tales when Trixie needed comfort, focusing on the things which would delight or outrage the woman.

Left alone with these pirates, Trixie probably wouldn’t come to grievous physical harm. Not unless she started a fight. But the image of Trixie crying on that splintered floor, wrists bleeding so badly Katya was sure they’d scar, kept her tethered to the boat.

She knew the pain was getting worse. Each night she’d untie Trixie, watch as she tried to stand on weak legs, agony flitting across her face.  

Katya refused to leave that night, the night they'd docked and could have easily run for the shore. Instead, she took an extra blanket down to Trixie to help with the cold. As they sat together, she told Trixie all about where they were. All about the plans to get a ransom for her.

The first night when Trixie had asked, “What do they want with me?” Katya had remained silent. Partly because she wasn’t sure, and partly because she had never imagined Trixie would be trustworthy. She’d never imagined she could consider Trixie a friend. As she’s coming to realise, she would miss Trixie when she was returned.

“I’m thinking of leaving.”

 Trixie’s shock was far more extreme than Katya could have imagined. With a gasp and wide eyes, she stared at Katya until she kept talking.

“You can’t tell anyone. It’s only because I trust you.”

Trixie nodded furiously.

“Of course.”

Katya took a deep breath, before continuing. This was fine. She trusted Trixie. Plus, Trixie wasn’t going anywhere.

“I want to leave. I want to leave this boat… find a different way to live. The crew have changed. I do not belong here anymore.”

Trixie stared down at the floor, absentmindedly holding a damp cloth to one of the wrists. Katya took the cloth, and held it for her.

“Could you… take me with you?” The younger woman asked, no trace of humour on her features.

“Trixie… why? You could be back home within the fortnight.” Katya couldn’t understand why Trixie would possibly risk her safe return.

“I do not believe the king will pay the ransom. He is a proud man, he would never agree to the terms of a pirate.” Trixie told her. Before correcting herself. “I mean no offense by that.”

Katya waved her off.

“Do you really think the king wouldn't help you? He’s your father, Trixie.”

Tears sprung to Trixie’s eyes, and Katya found herself close to crying too, for the first time in years.

“I know. But I fear he would refuse on principle. My younger brother is the important one. I am only second in line. Princesses are only important for marrying away.”

She shrugged, and Katya could scarcely believe what she was hearing. If the king wouldn’t pay, their whole plan was for nothing. Moreover, Trixie would die. Or be dumped on a foreign beach, perhaps sold as trophy wife in some underhand deal.

They sat in silence for a while, Trixie wiping tears and Katya trying to suppress her own. Outside, the clunk of boots on the deck told Katya their time was up. Trixie knew this too, now. She slumped back onto the floor, scabbing wrists held out for Katya to bind. Katya's mind wandered tied the knots, trying to ignore Trixie’s whimpers as the welts were aggravated by coarse wool of the rope.

She wiped the remainder of Trixie’s tears as she stood, resting a palm on her face.

“I will not leave without you.”

*

The fights with Dela and Shangela escalated as fast as her relationship with Trixie – they were near nightly, and increasingly drove a wedge between three people who were previously sisters.

 The younger crew members were losing their respect for Katya. She snapped at them frequently, and she knew they whispered about the ‘woman in the crow’s nest’. Over the years, as crews rotated through, there had been many rumours. Some that she was Siberian royalty, or perhaps a witch, that she was insane, that she could speak to old Gods, or see everything in the stars. She knew her knack for navigation was uncanny. Nearly supernatural, made legendary by exaggerations of old stories passed down by crew members. She also knew that Shangela and Dela couldn’t protect her eccentricities and introverted nature forever. One day, they’d be gone, or a mutiny would arise, and Katya didn’t have any illusions about her experience paving a road to captain-ship.

This ship would not be safe for her much longer.

*

The next port they stopped at was unexpected, but the girls ran out of mead, and reasoned that once they were wanted by the king there would be very few places on the coast that it was safe to stop. The captains, even in the midst of their fights – about money, about strategy, and about _Trixie_ – conceded, allowing the women to spend an evening in the tavern after they replenished everything that was missing.

This was her chance. It might never come again, Katya realised. She’d been trying all morning to get to Trixie, to tell her they were leaving that night. Whilst the girls were on land, buying supplies, felt like the perfect opportunity.

The deck was clear as Katya crept across it, collecting her few possessions and stringing them onto her back. However, just as she had bent down to speak to Trixie, to untie her ropes and let them go, Aja marched into the room, a sack of food weighing her down on one shoulder.

“Katya? What are you doing?” she demanded, slumping the bag down atop their pile of provisions.

“Just checking T- the princess is alright.” Katya stumbled, attempting to hide the apologetic look she shot to Trixie. She wished she could give some warning.

“Right. I think you might be a little too fond of her.” Aja teased, eyebrows raised. “Don’t go getting any ideas. Pirate Code and all that.”

Katya snorted.

“I don’t think _that_ is part of the Pirate Code. It’s just… amoral.”

“Right.”

Aja wasn’t leaving, so Katya had to. She was sure Aja could see her packed bag, but hoped the girl wouldn’t the pieces together. Surely, she wouldn’t. However, it was too dangerous to do anything whilst Aja and the other girls were aboard. They would not have any time to run, perhaps Trixie couldn't even be smuggled off the ship during daytime. No, Katya would have to wait until nightfall.

*

It was an anxious wait, atop the crow’s nest, watching pirates stream back and forth from the gang plank and below the deck, down to where Trixie was.

She counted them in, the girls. As the hours ticked by, the supplies were finally brought aboard and Katya waited for each of the pirates to leave. They were all ecstatic for a night out, in a town where everyone feared the notorious gang of pirates and they could wreak havoc without fear of the king’s guard. Even Shangela left for the tavern before sunset, leaving only Dela aboard.

Katya presumed she wouldn’t leave. It was unlike Dela to leave the boat, even with Katya keeping watch over everything. She didn’t trust the girls at all, and for that Katya found herself somewhat grateful. She could finally be off this damn ship. Although nostalgia got the better of her, and Katya found herself stalling.

She finally bid her crow's nest goodbye, gently stroking the mask where she'd etched tallies, star maps, initials. She clambered down to the deck, overwhelmed by the weight of making that journey for the last time. As she swung the door open, she was grateful to see Trixie was alone, and asleep. Katya woke her gently, crouching down beside her.

“We are to leave soon. We’re in a port. I will be back for you in just a few minutes.”

The princess gave a mumble, one that suggested she understood, despite still being dazed.

Katya had one last trip to make.

“Dela?” A soft call accompanied Katya’s knock on the already-open door, as she let herself in to the captain’s quarters.

“Katya, my dear. What can I do for you?”

Dela was at her desk, a tome propped up and illuminated by candlelight. She was one of almost none of the pirates who were able to read. Katya herself could not understand much more than a map.

“I just intended to… make amends. For the arguments we have been having recently. I still love you like a sister, and trust you like a wife.”

Dela looked taken aback, but touched.

“Katya…” she began. “You’re the finest navigator I could hope for. I fear that this ship would be doomed without you.”

Katya swallowed a lump of guilt in her throat. She had to lie to Dela, before she betrayed her. The woman who had near enough raised her, since she was a frightened child, shaking each time she ascended to the crow’s nest. They had raised each other. But she would never let Katya leave, if she knew her intentions.

“I might head into town, I think. Join the other girls for a night.”

“That’s unlike you, Katya.”

 She seemed concerned, squinting towards Katya, face lit dramatically by the flickering flame.

“I know… I fear that I do not know them, though. That if I do not spend time with them, we may never see eye to eye.” Katya’s half-lie felt cleaner than the truth. She hoped that perhaps, once she was gone, Dela might re-consider her words and see new meaning in them.

“That sounds like a great idea. Have a good night, my dear.” She looked confused for a split second, before masking it with here ever-present polite smile. “And, thank you.”

*

“Trixie, it is time for us to leave.”

The young woman’s face was a mixture of excitement and fear, the latter emotion taking over as Katya untied the ropes that bound her one last time.

“Where will we go?” She whispered, gathering up the ragged blanket from the ground to bring with her. She wrapped it around herself, forming a makeshift dress to cover her own torn one. Katya helped her tighten it with one of the ropes, before taking a deep breath. She was about to leave everything and everyone she’d known for almost a decade. Everyone except Trixie.

This was madness, surely. To throw away her whole livelihood, and run off with a girl who she had known for a little over three weeks. Yet, it was the most excited and optimistic she had felt in a number of years. Her heart thumped in her chest as it did during a battle with another boat, and she was certain Trixie felt the same. With a grip on Trixie’s hand and a careful watch on Dela’s door, she led the princess off the ship, helping her balance down the gangplank on weak legs.

She began to run when their feet were both on the pier, reaching the dock in almost no time. She attempted to go further, to sprint through the deserted streets with the intention of reaching the neighbouring town. It was barely five miles, a couple hours’ walk given a healthy pace over the easy clifftop terrain. However, Trixie could barely walk, let alone run.

“Katya… I’m so sorry. I… can’t.”

“That’s okay. That’s okay, honey. We can go slow.”

Trixie’s face was pale, nearly grey, but she nodded anyway. Katya could see she was a soldier from the way she’d survived her ordeal aboard the ship, but as she limped through the town, and then across the fields to the next one, Katya couldn’t hide how impressed she was by the woman.

She tried to keep Trixie updated on what was happening, to encourage her and be totally transparent. She had a plan. Of sorts. It was a little blurry in places, but she more or less knew their next steps.

“I have a friend in Findon. Violet. She is married to a very rich woman, she should look after us – at least for one night – until I can scrape together the money for horses.” Katya explained.

Trixie nodded, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other as they descended the hill towards the town.

“Thank you for doing this.” Trixie told her earnestly, gripping her hand even tighter as she stumbled over a pothole. “I don’t know that… I would have survived that ship without you.”

Katya felt conflicted, almost ashamed of the happiness and pride swelling in her heart, even as she started to regret her decision. No turning back now.

“Please, it was the least I could do. I feel horrible that you were put through that in the first place.”

“It is over now. Thanks to you.” Trixie insisted.

Katya conceded, finding herself grinning at the way Trixie wound their arms together nearing the city limits. She looked tired, sweaty and grimy still. Katya knew she was bruised all over underneath her makeshift gown, that her wrists must be agony and she must be starving, but the girl was still walking on, matching Katya’s pace even as she frequently stumbled.

“There, on the outside of the town.” Katya pointed out, a huge house half-concealed by trees with smoke billowing from the chimney.

*

As it transpired, Violet was not home. However her wife, a wealthy aristocrat called Pearl, was still awake. Despite her sleepy look, she instantly welcomed them into the home and made them tea, even as the servants slept. She clearly recognised Katya, but something told her that perhaps she had seen something more in Trixie. Perhaps she knew, but nonetheless offered a hand in greeting, repeating Trixie’s name as though she’d never heard it before.

The group settled near the fire, heating up after their walk, as Peal and Katya caught up.

“Where is Violet?” Katya inquired, looking around as though the woman might be hidden within the parlour.

Pearl’s face darkened.

“She has been arrested. Again.”

Katya reached out, and held both Pearl’s hands in her own grimy ones, comforting Pearl in the way she had first comforted Trixie. Trixie felt like a third wheel, piggybacking Pearl’s pain, sitting in a gorgeous living room in a threadbare blanket and covered in grime. Katya seemed ignited once again, her fire rekindled and her energy returning.

“The town jail?” she demanded.

Trixie could see her thoughts moving, a plan forming behind her clever eyes. The process was enchanting to watch.

“Yes. You’re familiar, I assume?” Pearl smiled knowingly, and Katya laughed. Trixie tried to look a part of the joke, smiling along.

“ _Intimately_.” Katya smiled. “I will get her out.”

“Thank you. You’ll be paid handsomely.”

“Payment would be much appreciated.” Katya agreed, already gathering her dagger and overcoat.

“I will go tonight.”

Trixie barely had time to react before the pirate was on her feet.

“Katya, you must be exhausted! Please, rest.” Trixie begged, and Pearl looked similarly concerned. Katya, however waved the women off. She'd gone longer without sleep.

“No. The crew will want to find you again, you are worth too much money for them to give up. Once they find you missing, and perhaps sober up, we will have no time. I will go tonight, and we can buy horses as soon as the market opens.” Katya insisted.

Trixie could see her point, as much as she begrudged it. Pearl seemed more keen, already standing to see the woman out the door.

“I can look after your… friend.” Pearl promised.

Katya nodded to her solemnly, sparing Trixie a smile before she closed the door.

*

Pearl offered Trixie food, anything she could scavenge from the kitchens without having to cook it – neither of them knew how to, frankly – and showed her the way to her temporary room.

“I assume you won't be able to sleep either, until Katya returns.”

Trixie nodded, following her host back to the parlour. It was in the eyeline of the main door, making sure they would know the second Katya returned. They sat in silence a while, staring into the fire whilst Trixie nibbled at her bread and cheese. It was nice to finally eat food without the texture of hard-tack, or not covered in the thick layer of salt every single food item was preserved in aboard the ship. It also made her stomach hurt a little, so she tried to eat slowly.

Finally, she could bear the silence no longer.

“What was she arrested for?” Trixie whispered. She hoped Pearl would not mind talking about her partner.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, princess.”

Trixie recoiled, trying to hide her gasp. Pearl rolled her eyes, rather rudely Trixie thought.

“Relax. I know who you are. We _have_ met before.”

Trixie was mortified. She also noticed that the way Pearl spoke was lazy and informal. She possessed a calmness which Trixie nearly envied.

“Oh, I am _so_ sorry, my lady. I did not recognise you.”

The woman laughed, throwing another of the chopped wooden logs on the fire. She even did physically demanding tasks herself, despite being a noblewoman. Trixie found herself quite liking Pearl, for all her oddities.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you meet thousands of people each year. You can't be expected to remember all of them.” Pearl smiled, resting her head on the side of her chair as she reclined in it.

“What happened? If you do not mind my asking.” Trixie pushed. She felt she needed to know what kind of criminal Katya was freeing, and whether she should be afraid. This was all so out of her comfort zone.

"Violet was stitched up. The townsfolk dislike her. She’s… something special.” Pearl smiled at the fireplace, her face completely beautiful lit up by the flames and the memory of her wife.

“How long has she been away?” Trixie asked quietly. Clearly Pearl loved to talk about her, and Trixie was more than happy to indulge someone in a bit of wistful romance.

“A month. I miss her every day, but I knew she would come back.”

There was such conviction in her voice, that Trixie wholeheartedly believed her.

“How did you know?”

“She always finds her way back. She’s incredible.” Pearl gushed, staring up at the ceiling. “I reread her letters to me every day.”

“She sounds wonderful.” Trixie agreed.

Then Trixie frowned.

“How do you know she will not be arrested again?”

“Like I said, the townsfolk are afraid of her. They think she is a witch. They will not be brave enough to try to capture her again. I won't let them.”

*

It was less than a couple of hours before Katya returned, sweat-coated and with a tall, excitable woman in tow. Pearl stood up with an excited screech, far more animated than Trixie had seen her all evening.

“Violet!” she hugged the new woman, planting a kiss so aggressive on her severe-but-attractive face that Trixie almost recoiled. “Katya, I think I love you.”

Katya smiled, shrugging a little as the two lovers reunited. She turned away, joining Trixie on one of the sofas.

“I am glad you returned safe.” She offered with a shrug, before giving Katya a side-hug. The older woman planted a kiss on her forehead, and Trixie caught herself blushing hotly. “We should get some rest.”

*

When Trixie awoke the next morning, in a comfortable bed to the sight of daybreak, she could almost believe she was back home. She had bathed the night before. Granted, with a flannel, in cold water, but it was still more than she could have dreamed for during her ordeal in the last few weeks.

Yes, her hair was still disgusting, her dress still beyond repair (she blanket was mite coated, and so she had disposed of it the night before) and her shoes damaged beyond recognition. A bath was a step in the right direction, nonetheless.

She felt particularly repulsive surrounded by all of Pearl’s nice things, with no hint of her ordinarily-dignified self remaining visible on the outside. None of the poise and polish of a princess. She’d see heads turn on the street, if she were to walk outside, due to her state. She had no choice but to bare the shame, to walk out to the dining hall shivering.

Breakfast was pleasant. Despite her disarray, despite her appearance, her hosts were gracious and kind, ensuring she had slept well and that they provided her anything she needed. The two women appeared to have had a sleepless night, giving each other dreamy looks, eating with their meals each with one hand, the other conjoined to her partner’s. Trixie tried not to stare, giving them privacy, as they fed each other, kissing with no concern for their guest. They would spare her a scrap of conversation every few minutes, a polite courtesy which Trixie very much appreciated.

“Do you know where Katya is?” she’s asked, during one such break.

Pearl and Violet smiled lazily, exchanging a look.

“She will be back soon, honey. Please, do not worry.” Violet reassured.

Trixie rather liked Violet, the way she was far more talkative than her partner, her wit biting and sharp. Nonetheless, she struggled to settle until Katya returned, swinging through the doorway, her manic energy enveloping the room.

“We need to hurry,” she told Trixie, with a cursory nod towards their hosts. “There are horses outside. We might not have long.”

Even on land, Katya moved with the bounce and caution of someone aboard a boat, Trixie found it endearing. Her imbalance was not helped by the hefty bag on her bag. From it, she pulled out a long peasant dress, embroidered with pretty purple flowers that made Trixie smile.

“I guessed your sizing,” she apologised, handing the dress over gently.

“It should not matter much. Thank you so much.”

Trixie was overcome with the thoughtfulness of her companion. She had no obligation to give Trixie things like nice clothes, yet she had spent money on this dress. A considerable amount of the money which she risked her life for. Trixie darted to her room to change, trying to be as fast as she could out of respect for Katya. When she re-emerged, the pirate was saying goodbye to her friends.

“I appreciate this so much. Please, don’t say anything about Trixie being here.”

“Trixie?” Violet balked, but Pearl hushed her. Katya was one of very few people permitted to call her Trixie, she realised. 

“I understand. The princess was never here, if anyone should ask.”

“Thank you.”

Then, she noticed Trixie, turning to greet her.

“It fits?”

“Perfectly. I can’t thank you enough for this.”

Trixie twirled in delight, basking in the smiles and praise of the other women.

“It looks amazing. We should be on our way, though.”

Katya’s body language was anxious. Trixie could only imagine how she must be feeling, running from her friends, at risk of being caught and considered a traitor. So gave a curtsey to Pearl and Violet, thanking them profusely once again before following Katya out of the door.

“I got us coats, too.”

Spring was breaking, and there was a chill in the air. Trixie was grateful for the warmth as Katya draped a new woollen coat over her shoulders.

The horses were not quite what she was used too, a little old and with none of the characteristics of a thoroughbred, but Trixie was still ecstatic to be on horseback and off her feet.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she whispered, approaching the furthest horse from the house with reverence and a childlike glee. She loved animals, horses particularly. The pirate looked less enthused.

“I… am not a confident rider.” Katya admitted, a little more tentative in greeting the remaining horse.

“You will be fine, they seem incredibly tame. Not fast, either.”

Katya worried her lip, and Trixie tried to calm her.

“Do not fear the horses. If you respect them, they will respect you. Plus, your crew are on foot. We will be far faster, surely.” Trixie told her, clambering onto the back of her own horse with as much elegance as she could muster.

The leather of the worn saddle creaked as she mounted it, but stayed blessedly in place. Although, Katya struggled to get onto the horse, so much that Trixie had to dismount to help her climb on. They waved goodbye to Pearl and Violet, who  were muffling laughs at Katya's struggles with the animal. Fortunately, once Trixie was riding, the second horse followed without much input from Katya.

*

She could keep her eyes on the horizon as her horse walked the path behind Trixie’s, listening intently for the shouts of any of the crew over clatter of the horses’ hooves. Despite a few scares, they escaped the town and surrounding hills with no events. Katya shouted out instructions to Trixie, when she asked, taking detours to avoid the direction of Katya’s ship, if it happened to be prowling along the coast to search for them.

It made sense for Trixie to be an expert rider, but Katya still found herself admiring the way in which the princess could control the horse so effortlessly. What impressed her most was the patience and affection with which she treated the animals. She knew when they could need to drink, to have a break, could guide them to rivers to drink. Because of Trixie, they’d made it far further than Katya could have hoped before the sun began to set.

Finally, it became necessary to stop. It wasn’t safe to travel the wild, rabbit-hole pocked terrain in the darkness. They’d spoke a little, during the day, but the stress and the distance between them made conversation difficult. Now, with the horses tied up and Katya building a fire, Trixie sat near her to talk.

“I can hardly believe what you’re doing for me.”

Katya cursed colourfully as her knife slipped off the flint, failing to spark. She felt her temper shortening with each failure to light their only heat source.

“You’ve said that before.”

“Yes, well. I _am_ grateful.” Trixie told her, playing with the hem of her dress. She’d spent a lot of the day telling Katya how much she loved it. “You abandoned your crew for me.”

“Honestly, I had been considering leaving for a while. If I can help a beautiful woman get home in the process, then perhaps it’s worth it.”

Trixie smiled down at Katya, watching the tiny flame she’d finally managed to create.

“I should definitely not be considered beautiful with the state of my hair.”

Katya huffed a laugh, moving to sit beside Trixie once she was convinced the fire would stay lit.

“Your hair is _not_ what makes you… or a person… beautiful.”

“You are… very wise for a pirate.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Katya was amused, her hands reaching for Trixie’s matted hair. Despite some of the dirt being washed out, it was still sticky from the ship board varnish, and probably knotted beyond repair.

“Just… that I had never considered how wise, or gentle, a pirate could be. Before we met.” Trixie shrugged, clearly less afraid of offending Katya than she had been on the boat. It was nice to see her more confident, less fearful, and in somewhat less pain.

To change the conversation, the pirate took to assessing Trixie's matted golden hair.

“This might need cutting out,” Katya warned, trying her best to untangle some of the bigger knots. Trixie’s hair was curly, and ragged from the wind of horse-riding and the days on the boat. The younger woman sighed.

“I had feared so. It is long past saving.” Trixie took a moment, hands brushing Katya’s as she felt the knots.

“Could you cut it for me?”

Trixie’s voice wobbled a bit, and Katya was amazed that after all she had been through, losing a half-dozen inches of hair would be enough to upset her.

“I should do it in the morning. When I can see.” Katya told her, genuinely sorry for Trixie.

She had never cared particularly for her own hair, mostly just trying to keep it short enough to stay out of her way whilst she climbed, but long enough to protect her from the sun. For a princess, though, appearances must matter an awful lot more. Clearly Trixie was moved, by the loss of years of work and growth.

They slept under the stars, warmed by the fire and filled by the food and water Katya had packed from Findon. They would run out in a couple of days, but Katya hoped to reach a peaceful town by then. There was still gold in her pocket from Pearl’s exorbitantly high payment, enough to give them at least a couple of months of easy travel.

Trixie slept close to companion, creating a pile of all their soft materials to sleep on. Katya was happy on the ground, though she missed the rocking of the ship. She had missed it the night before, too, unable to sleep at ground level and without being flung side to side all through the night. She could adapt, though, and she didn’t begrudge Trixie taking all the blankets. The girl was still bruised to hell and back, she deserved all the comfort Katya could muster for her.

*

The next morning they were woken by birdsong, the air cold and the horses pacing. Trixie moved them, allowing them to graze, before sitting herself down in front of Katya.

“You promised to cut my hair.”

“I did.”

Katya had slept with the knife in hand, one she’d brought with her from the ship, that had served her well through the years. She had sharpened it the day before they ran, it would be more than enough to cut through hair.

She was, by no means, a fine barber. Katya focussed on getting the worst of the knots removed before attempting to level out the trim, and it ended up just below Trixie’s chin. A little longer than her own, and a little neater.

“Done.” She’d whispered, afraid of upsetting Trixie. It felt like Katya had removed some of her identity, years of work, scattered on the grass next to the burnt firewood from last night.

“How does it look?” Trixie twisted to search Katya’s face. Katya brushed some of her hair out of her face, she’d gotten most of the remaining tangles out, and tried to look reassuring.

“Wonderful.”

Trixie’s face scrunched up, jaw trembling, and Katya surged forwards to hug her before she could cry. She only got more upset as bot her muddied hands grasping at the ends of her hair, having to search for it, so much shorter than she’d expected. Katya didn’t understand it, she’d never particularly cared for her own hair, but she knew looks must be a point of pride – of self-worth – for a princess. That would be hard to lose. She whispered in the younger woman’s ear:

“It’s okay baby. It was only hair. It will grow back, and you’re still gorgeous in the meantime.”

Trixie didn’t reciprocate the hug, just sat in the embrace she was being given.

“Thank you, Katya.”

*

Trixie’s childhood was _fascinating_. It was full of scandal and of lies, hidden under the façade of the palace walls. For someone so seemingly sheltered, so untarnished by the world, Trixie had been through her fair share of horrors. Assassination, affair, the armed guards who _had_ to be stationed outside her chambers, it was far more intense than Katya could have imagined.

The stories were also a reminder of who she was with. What she had done.

Katya had been complicit in the kidnapping of a princess. Princess Beatrice. The eldest daughter of one of the country’s most powerful kings. She had deserted her crew, potentially condemned Monet, should she come back at all from the palace. Katya had abandoned her adoptive family for a woman she barely knew, and she barely felt guilty about it.

“May I ask about you? How did you end up aboard a pirate ship, of all things?”

Katya told her. About her childhood, how joining a pirate crew was the best thing that could have possibly happened to her, how the crow’s nest offered her solace like nothing else, and she always missed the sway of the sea when she was trapped to land.

She tried to reassure Trixie, as much as herself, that that chapter of her life was over. She hadn’t found herself happy any more, even as she enjoyed the briskness of the sea air on her face. It was no longer her place, with that new generation of crew. She tried to convince Trixie that her decision to leave had come without a second thought. In many ways, they had both been escaping.

“I couldn’t let them have you there. You don’t deserve to be abused like that. No one does.”

“You are a very kind woman, Katya.”

The princess was riding ahead of her, but the air was still and the terrain was easy. With barely-raised voices, it was still perfectly easy to hear each other. The noise of the horses was the only distraction from the sound of their conversation.

“I can still hardly believe they treated you like that. It’s dishonourable. It killed me, to leave you injured and pained down under decks.”

“I was their prisoner. I don’t suppose my father treats his prisoners much better.”

“The crew I joined would have never done that. Especially not to a young woman. I really don't feel I can ever apologise enough for what you went through.”

“None of that is your fault. I have told you that before. Besides, I would still be there if you had not intervened.”

“You never deserved to be there in the first place.” Katya thought for a moment, before laying it on thick. “If I had my way, you would never have to sleep on a floor, or want for anything. I would see you loved and cared for forever, if I only had the means.”

Trixie went silent for a second, one hand stroking at the mane of her horse whilst the other held tight to the reigns. Katya made a note to check her bruises that night, she knew the horse riding was not doing her own body any favours.

“You talk about me… like I am a goddess.”

“Yes.”

The road widened, and Katya sped her horse up, talking parallel to Trixie’s. She smiled across at the princess, watching how she tried to hide her bashfulness.

*

The night wasn’t particularly cold, when they finally stopped again. Katya finally felt safe, miles and miles from the coast and without a hint of anyone following them. The night before, she had expected to be caught. To wake up at sword point, a furious Dela holding the weapon, and Trixie roughly restrained by Shangela. The thought had haunted her dreams, warped them into nightmare which woke her again and again. The pair could have been caught the night before, the warmth of their fire and the grazing of their horses was a risk, their time together had felt precious and desperate. 

Now, though, she was free. They’d made it, and Trixie was safe.

Katya made an effort to be kinder to Trixie, the second night. After they’d ridden together and chatted the whole day, and the pressure was off. Their rations were limited, but still plentiful enough to eat comfortably, and Katya slimmed down her own portion to let Trixie eat to her heart’s content.

“I quite liked Pearl and Violet,” Trixie commented, gingerly tossing another slightly damp log onto the fire.

 Katya noted that she had refused to speak until they finished eating, hesitant to even eat with her hands after Katya gave her the food. Apparently etiquette was drilled into her very nature, regardless of whether they were in the middle of the wild South Downs.

“They were incredibly kind to me. As are you, of course.”

“They’re good women, yeah. They really suit each other, too. Violet was a bit of a loose cannon before she met Pearl. They seem very happy.”

“Thanks to you.”

Trixie sat herself down next to Katya, back rod-straight and legs neatly crossed at the ankles. Katya was sprawled across her own coat, reclining in a contrast to the princess.

She laughed at the sincerity in Trixie’s voice.

“Yeah, well. Violet likes to get herself in trouble.”

Trixie nodded seriously, before furrowing her eyebrows.

“Why did Violet know you could help?”

“I might have broken out of that prison before.”

It was completely unlike Trixie, making Katya laugh, when she balked out an: “Excuse me, what?”

*

The night passed in giggles and absurd stories, the women getting closer as the night got colder. Trixie’s chill seemed to outweigh her etiquette, as she finally began to lean in and embrace Katya, sharing two layers of coats over them.

“Is this okay?”

Katya knew this would be unusual for Trixie. From her stories, the princess had grown up completely alone, with barely anyone in her own kingdom allowed to see her, much less touch her. Katya herself had been touch-starved for the last couple of years, missing the nights she’d spend with her old crewmates before they left her – one way or another. She felt a little guilty, taking comfort in Trixie’s touch, when she had no idea whether the princess reciprocated her affections towards her.

To her delight, Trixie snuggled in closer, face and nest of hair hot against Katya’s neck.

“This is wonderful.”

*

The third day, Katya and the princess finally settled into a rhythm. Trixie had learnt a little from her companion, helping with the fire and with packing up in the mornings before their journey continued. She never asked Katya where they were going, and the older woman often wondered why. Because she did not care, particularly? Because she assumed that Katya was taking her home? Because she did not want Katya to abandon her, if their routes should differ? There was absolutely no reason for her to be concerned, though. They were following the stars back towards Trixie’s kingdom.

Granted, they followed a more pleasant and scenic route back, a less direct route, but they were getting there steadily.

It was unlikely the princess knew the area, given how limited her exploration of the land around her father’s was. If they were part of a royal procession it would have been dangerous, crossing hostile territory unannounced. For Katya, though, there was not much to fear besides wolves and the odd pickpocket. She was fairly certain she had fought worse.

They continued under Katya’s instruction, with Trixie ahead to guide the horses, happy to talk and share, possessed by no particular rush to reach whichever destination Katya intended to reach.

*

“No one else has ever cared for me like you do.” Trixie confessed one night, as they laid together by the campfire.

It had been a struggle to get anything to light on the damp ground. Following a night of rain there was barely any dry wood to be found. To add to the drama, Trixie had spotted a snake as she turned over logs, looking for anything that would burn, and had been terrified. Determined it was a ‘massive’ adder, she had run back to Katya, in hysterics, afraid the reptile had chased her back. Her panic had even upset the horses, and caused Katya to search the horizon frantically, afraid they had been caught.

It was fine, though, and after Katya finished collecting the wood, both women crouched around the pyre. Katya had made it her mission to teach Trixie how to light a fire, in the event that they should be separated or Trixie required that skill for survival in her now-uncertain future.

“Every person in my life has looked after me out of duty. To make a living, or because I was a royal.”

“That’s sad, Trixie.”

“It just makes me even happier to have found you.”

Katya thought her heart might burst, as she pulled Trixie closer, not minding the way her arm was going numb under the younger girl’s weight.

*

Trixie didn’t possess many practical skills. She was a princess, why would she? Still, she was incredible with the horses, to the extent that Katya was certain they would not have made it this far without her. Despite her best efforts, the pirate was still wary of animals. Their jumpiness and power made her nervous – and even Trixie’s insistence of taking the less trained horse was not enough to ease her mind. The horse riding was painful, too. Katya hadn’t grown up with horses the way Trixie had, she didn’t have the cushioning of big hips and thighs to protect her from the bounce of each canter. She knew Trixie was struggling a little, too, the cheap saddles were a poor imitation of what she was used to, each step irritating her existing bruises and forming new ones between them.

Nonetheless, they finally made it to the edge of a woods, beyond which she knew the land was farmed and maintained. It put Katya’s mind at ease.

They settled in a clearing of the forest, where a shallow overhang could offer them shelter in the case of rainfall and there was ample room for a small fire. To Trixie’s delight, Spring had brought a carpet of bluebells to the forest.

Once Trixie was certain the horses were not likely to eat the bluebells, tethered as far away as she felt comfortable, she turned to Katya with a smile.

“This place is _magical._ ”

“It’s pretty.” Katya agreed, lugging as many of their belongings to the clearing as possible.

Trixie had carelessly dropped her bag and coat at her feet, staring around at the lush green of the newly-budding tree leaves, reaching down to touch the soft purple flowers, which reached barely a hand’s height off the ground. She looked beautiful, finally in contrast to a colourful background. The sunlight was golden as it filtered through the leaves, even as the air was cold, illuminating her soft skin.

Not for the first time, Katya wondered how a woman this good and beautiful had found her way into her messy life.

They made dinner that night with rabbits Katya caught and skinned, using some knowledge from deep within her memory to hunt them down. To her credit, Trixie had helped prepare the meat, despite shying away from the fire as the fat cooked and spit fat. Once the meal was done and the fire was re-stocked with dead wood, Katya found herself charmed by Trixie’s wandering around the clearing, collecting bluebells she deemed worthy into a bunch with incredibly focused concentration

Before the sun set, Katya dragged herself away from the warmth of the fire, muttering to Trixie where she was going before heading to towards the nearby stream, refilling their canteens and washing as best as she could.

On her return Trixie grinned up at her, now-dirty blonde hair threaded through with flowers. Katya laughed.

“It’s been a while since I’ve felt pretty. This is wonderful.” Trixie giggled, behaviour giddy and speech unusually informal. Katya imagined this was what she was like when being fitted for a beautiful new gown, or in a court banquet night. Perhaps when she was alone in her room, tipsy on red wine.

“It is!” Katya enthused, offering Trixie water to drink and a seat beside the fire.

“I suppose I have an appreciation for pretty things.” Trixie smiled, reaching to slip a flower from her bouquet behind Katya’s ear. As she settled the bluebell, her hand stroked down Katya’s jaw, and older woman almost gasped at the fluttering in her stomach.

It took little persuasion for Katya to settle herself between Trixie’s legs, allowing her ragged hair to be combed out and plaited, then filled with the vivid purple of flowers, a compliment to the landscape that surrounded them.

The pirate almost fell asleep, soothed by the light tugging at her roots that Trixie’s fingertips provided. Almost all her weight was on Trixie’s front, the softness of her body warm and comforting even through Katya’s shirt and coat.

Then, she felt Trixie jolt, accidentally shunting her body towards the fire.

“Sorry!” Trixie gasped, reaching both hands forward grasp on to Katya’s torso, “Sore spot.”

Katya extracted herself from between Trixie’s thighs, kneeling with her back to the flames. The sun was almost set, leaving Trixie’s face in shadow, only lit by the flickering of the fire.

“What hurts?” She asked, concerned for Trixie.

She’d cleaned a few of Trixie’s superficial wounds as they travelled, plucked out a couple of splinters she’d received from the ship floor and trying her best to soothe Trixie’s bruising. Most of her injuries had healed, as far as Katya knew.

“I’m sure you are in just as much pain, from the riding. I have never spent this long consecutively on horseback before.”

Katya was in ‘as much pain’. She was sore. Being unfamiliar with riding, the tension from holding posture and the angle of her hips caused Katya an ache in her whole body. However, that did nothing to diminish Trixie’s pain.

“I understand. The ride here was hard.”

Trixie restrained a whine as she lay down, back shielded from the rough forest floor by nothing more than their blankets.

“We could stay here for a day, to recover, if you need it?” Katya offered, laying herself down beside the princess with a similar wince. She certainly needed a break, assuming Trixie wasn’t too anxious to get home.

Trixie seemed unsure.

“The area is nice, we can find food, remaining here makes sense. Plus, you appear to love the flowers.”

“If you have no objection, I would love to spend another day here, resting.”

“Then we will stay.”

For the last couple of nights, Katya had made an effort to teach Trixie her love of the stars. To show her which constellations she could orient herself with, wherever she found herself. Despite her education, Trixie had no inclination to remember the names of each formation, but she still encouraged Katya to point them out to her.

That night she spotted Cassiopeia and The Plough, bracketing the North Star, spinning tales about the beautiful queen, the farmer, and the many times those stars had brought her home. It occurred to Katya that she no longer had a home to find, but with Trixie tucked under her arm she suddenly didn’t feel quite so homesick.

In the dark, with the faint _hoot_ of an owl interrupting the rustling of leaves, Katya sought out Trixie’s lips.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a forest clearing, hidden somewhere in the English South Downs, Katya takes a gamble on her heart.

To kiss Trixie was a risk. A gamble far greater in magnitude than anything Katya had ever bet aboard the ship, scarier than any lonely night with fellow pirate, or with a stranger in a tavern. Her attraction to Trixie was wrapped up in caring and trust, an infatuation backed up by the beginning of what just might be love. To lose her now, after everything she'd sacrificed to earn the woman's trust and freedom? Katya wasn't sure what she would do.

Delight, then confusion and disappointment, nearly stopped Katya’s heartbeat when Trixie moved forward, then avoided her lips. One hand found her arm, while Trixie’s lips met the side of her mouth: a friend’s kiss.

Fuck.

The firelight was barely enough to see the other woman’s face after Katya recoiled, but she could feel the tightening of Trixie’s features underneath the hand which cupped her cheek.

“Katya, what are you doing?” she whispered, voice deeper and more breathy in the quiet of the late night.

“I am trying to kiss you.”

Katya’s reply was equally quiet, and she tried to keep her voice steady as despite her fear. The wild animals and highwaymen couldn’t scare her nearly as much as rejection from Trixie.  The forest around them was hardly moving, breeze and birds the only noise around their little camp.

“Okay.”

Once again, Katya used a hand to help guide her lips to Trixie’s. The younger woman barely moved, lips slightly apart and body totally paralysed as Katya took the lead. She breathed through her mouth, like she was afraid as Katya’s lips covered hers. It was awkward and uncomfortable, and Trixie didn’t want it, so Katya left her lips with downcast eyes. A parting gentle stroke of her face finally saw the younger woman relax, where she was still laid flat on their blanket.

She wasn’t sure if her muttered sorry was audible, even in the quiet forest, but if Trixie heard she didn’t reply. As the pirate lay down flat, Trixie still hadn’t moved.

“Can we go to sleep now?” she asked, so nervous it made Katya’s heart twist with guilt. She’d caused that.

“Of course.”

*

Katya certainly couldn’t sleep, and she was sure Trixie was pretending. Still, if the princess needed space, she was perfectly entitled to it. More than entitled to it.

After a night spent slipping in and out of dreamless sleep, Katya got up and went about her day as if nothing was wrong.  Trixie seemed to as well, once she’d groaned her way to consciousness and struggled to climb off the forest floor. It wasn’t lost on Katya that Trixie needed this day off, probably far more than Katya herself needed it. She had likely never been in this much pain  her whole life. So Katya tried to forgive the princess’ doziness as they put together a relatively-filling breakfast.

Over blackberries and what was left of their dry goods, sitting cross legged just four feet apart, Trixie finally addressed the awkwardness,

“Katya, I am sorry about last night. I believe I reacted wrongly.”

It was the formal, diplomatic tone of her ‘apology’ that hurt Katya the most. Trixie’s slumped, diminutive posture stung a bit, too. She kept her lips tightly pursed, waiting for Trixie to continue.

“I would like to kiss you. However…”  She stared past Katya, across the flowers which spilled across the forest floor.

“However, what?” Katya prompted, watching Trixie’s face intensely.

There were dead flowers in her messy hair, her braids squashed down from where she’d slept on them. Her face was forlorn, with a sorrow behind those big brown eyes. Some of the hollowness in her cheeks had filled out since escaping the ship, looking healthier without the deep dark eye bags and oil coating her face. She didn’t look stressed, she looked sad.

“Katya… you are a woman.” Trixie told her, as if it explained away everything.

“Pretty sure, sweetheart.”

Katya jokingly wrapped a hand around her own breast, as if checking it was there, her forced smile betraying her seriousness. Trixie acknowledged her with a soft nod.

Katya was fairly certain she knew why the princess was so hesitant, but she needed to hear it. She needed to be sure that the she understood the past that led Trixie to her fear of kissing Katya.

“I just… had never considered that. Before meeting Pearl and her wife, I had no idea it was possible to be with another woman.”

She stayed quiet, listening in case Trixie intended on continuing, but no more words came.

“Do you think you would want to be with a woman?”

Katya refused to let her voice shake, tried to play the role of a concerned friend rather than a disappointed admirer. Her unrequited affections for Trixie didn’t matter nearly as much as the girl’s feelings. Trixie was looking directly at Katya’s face, studying her lightly tanned features in a way that made the pirate feel unequivocally seen. Without breaking from her observation of Katya, Trixie answered.

“I think I do, yes.”

Then, she finally broke from her examination, looking at Katya directly. The older woman held her breath. She couldn’t believe her luck, huddled around a long-extinguished campfire, eating mediocre food that was still miles better than anything she had eaten in her time at sea. With Trixie there too. _I think I do._

“But please understand that this is new to me. It will take… time.”

“Of course,” Katya breathed, reaching over to rub Trixie’s knee in comfort. The princess smiled, smudging blackberry juice on her face as she ate. Katya didn’t mention it, sure her own face was stained to match.

*

As a pirate, Katya had never had traditional relationships. It was difficult to love the women she met once a year in a port, who might not be there the next time she docked. Her crew were like a found family, and seeking out emotional comfort in a crewmate was wrought with risks to her heart and her reputation. The risk of losing a lover in a battle, being bullied for showing her soft side, being driven away by a bitter ex-lover if something went wrong – it never seemed worth the brief joy she could find in the company of another woman.

With Trixie, it felt fine to show weakness. She already had, in visiting a homesick princess night after night, in giving her food and water and little pieces of herself. When she had freed Trixie, it felt like admitting that her heart wasn’t as stony as her vocation required from her. Katya had admitted that ‘failure’, in leaving. She’d given up her personal reputation and sacrificed the safety of her friends. There was a risk that the king already knew of their involvement in Trixie’s disappearance, that he had some kind of navy en-route to hunt down their ship.

Yet even after all her renegade moment had cost her, Katya wouldn’t cut ties. She’d stayed once the princess was free. Even though she was incriminated, Trixie could have her arrested if they were found, she stayed.

She loved spending time with Trixie. She loved to teach her new skills. To pass days with her, talking and laughing. Somewhere along the way Katya had forgotten she was in the company of a princess, ignored the huge wealth she could have obtained by just letting Dela and Shangela get their ransom money.

There was no way she could define what she had with Trixie. She didn’t have the vocabulary for it, after being shrouded by loneliness on a ship full of people for so long.

Nonetheless, Katya felt happy when Trixie was happy. She felt anguish when Trixie’s exhaustion or fear got the better of her. There wasn’t another time Katya could remember where empathy had pumped through her veins as vigorously as it did with Trixie. She would do everything she could for that woman, she already had. She’d bought her food and saved her the bigger portions, tried to let her have the best horse, shared everything she had even cut her hair and bought her a pretty dress, just because she cared. Fuck, she’d broken a woman out of prison for Trixie.

So, in the scheme of things, showing her softer side was a foregone conclusion. She’d already offered up everything she had, like a wild dog rolling over to show her belly. Now, after their conversation that morning, it seemed like Trixie might take mercy on her.

Their rest day passed in stories and small talk, Katya’s tales of beautiful women in love, of the few wonderful women she had allowed herself to become obsessed with, so keen to encourage Trixie to feel her passion, to understand that she had a choice beyond loving a prince.

She recited all the poetry she knew, too, searching her memory for stanzas and stories which had captured her imagination. Some of verses had kept her lonely on cool nights, and it was nice to discuss them with someone else who loved the spoken word. Lots of it was new to Trixie, even though the princess was far better read than her (Katya barely even read, beyond what she needed to). She listened intently, probably hearing even more in the words than the pirate could, getting choked up, connecting with Katya’s probably-misremembered words with incredible passion. 

Trixie seemed reluctant to talk about her home, the only good memories were about the hired caregivers she could recall from childhood. Ginger, as Trixie called her, had cared for Trixie since birth. She was the only person who had shown her unconditional love, shown her kindness in private which Trixie had known from her parents. Despite all her formal education and etiquette, Trixie still had a personality, and that could be attributed to Ginger. Katya knew she would love to meet her, see how raised the princess and thank her, assuming Katya wasn’t arrested on site in the palace.

Hearing about her childhood, Katya was most fascinated that Trixie could write, that she knew how to read and could probably write out Katya’s name for her – despite claiming she wouldn’t know how it could be spelt. She’d read huge volumes of stories and poetry, said she always looked forward to finding a new gem in the palace library, and that the book-keeper knew her better than her own family. She’d spend hours talking to the old librarian, exchanging their views on stories that Trixie had just read, and the wistful look in Trixie’s eyes wrought a pang in Katya’s chest. She regretted all the time Trixie had lost from her life. Regretted that, as much as Trixie complained about it, she’d been raised in the most idyllic, wonderful place – nicer than anything Katya could dream up from her cold, rocky crow’s nest. It was unfortunate that she missed the calm of a normal childhood, or the love, acceptance and adventure of Katya’s upbringing, a princess like Trixie just didn’t belong in the woods.

The sunset came with a drop in temperature, and Trixie walked around the campsite swaddled in a blanket. Earlier she had removed the crushed flowers from her own braided hair, then from Katya’s, and it now hung limp around her face. She was collecting firewood, and despite the novelty of the bluebells wearing off, Katya smiled at the way she avoided stepping on a single plant.

Katya sat building the fire as Trixie dropped piles of wood beside her. She could hardly believe the change in the princess, doing chores without even asking, mud rubbing off on the bodice of her dress and face flushed from exertion. She called Trixie back when they had barely enough wood for 4 hours of light – Katya could get more later. Saving Trixie the work would be more than worth the hassle of hunting down dry branches in the dark.

Once the sun set, Katya had caught them dinner and Trixie had got more water and attended to the horses. The clearing was the easiest place they’d stayed so far, survival barely took up any of their time, and they could sit together for a half hour until the rabbit meat cooked. Trixie had gathered more flowers, entertaining Katya by finding places in their clothes to place them.

“They’ll go bad by tomorrow,” Katya reminded her, smiling to herself with no actual concern, flowers tucked behind her ear and in the top button holes of her shirt.

“I know.”

They still hadn’t packed up their campsite, only walking the horses a short distance to new grazing areas. The animals were a little restless after a day of being static, but Trixie insisted they were grateful for the day off – though Katya suspected that the princess might just be projecting her own gratitude for a day of rest.

With the dinner finally finished, washed down with cold stream water, Trixie lay down. Katya mirrored her, feeling the scratchy blanket material under her and Trixie’s curious look on her face. Today hadn’t felt like a chore. She wasn’t desperate to sleep, as she had been the previous nights when they had travelled. The sun was down, but with Trixie there, she wanted to stay awake the rest of the evening. An despite her dreamy look, Trixie didn’t seem sleepy either, watching Katya's lips with that inquisitive, intelligent gaze.

Maybe she’d taken Trixie’s intelligence for granted, when she saw her as the damsel in distress or the practically-useless, spoilt noblewoman, but the princess definitely knew what was going on when Katya leant in again to kiss her, because she moved forward too.

Finally, Katya felt the pressure of Trixie trying to kiss her back. It was unpractised and painfully gentle, but Katya couldn’t bring herself to care. That would come with time. Katya could finally lose track of the stars above her, of the mild nausea she felt from being on land, of the wolves she feared to be prowling through the trees around them.

When Katya finally pulled away from the barely-there kiss, Trixie looked more worried than she had since they found this spot in the forest, desperately searching the older woman’s face for a reaction. Giddy, Katya found herself laughing. Trixie’s worry heightened, and she physically recoiled from the pirate.

“Was that…” she started, before cutting herself off, biting her lip with a frown.

“Trixie that was fine.” Katya promised, reaching out to stroke her face, before changing her mind. Her hand rested in the small blanket space between their torsos instead, and Trixie focused on it as she spoke.

“Sorry. I have never really... experienced anything like this. I have no idea what to do.”

“Really?”

“It’s not really… what princesses do, where I am from.”

“Oh.”

_Oh._

Katya had her suspicions that Trixie’s childhood was lonely. That she was confined within the walls of a probably-very-nice castle. However big it was, that was no substitute for the freedom of making her own mistakes and friends, learning from her own trial and error. Trixie wasn’t that young, probably into her twenties, but she had none of Katya’s life experience. None of the wear and tear that came with Katya’s life on the road, and certainly none of Katya’s more exciting experiences. The pirate couldn’t even remember the first person she’d kissed, but she dared say she was better than Trixie. Then again, she’d been around loving and real people, instead of courtiers.

“That’s okay. I’ll guide you.”

“Okay.”

*

Once Trixie figured out kissing, slow at first but then eager to copy Katya’s instruction, she didn’t want to stop.

It surprised the pirate. She expected that Trixie would need to process, that she’d need to take another break, figure out her emotions and get over whatever internalised homophobia her upbringing had caused. That was natural. That was to be expected. Katya had seen it over and over again in new crewmates, women who were confused and upset to see drunken female crewmates kissing, something that contradicted their black-and-white worldview. Still, somehow, every time she tilted her head away to let Trixie breathe, take a break, check her jaw wasn't cramping, the younger girl groaned in her throat and pulled Katya closer again.

The smile on her lips made Katya so unbelievably happy.            

She also wasn’t surprised when, after she laid an arm over Trixie’s hip, it was all too much for the princess. Katya moved back as Trixie shivered a little, and let her recover. The fire needed tending to, and as she threw dried branches onto the smouldering pyre, Katya caught sight of Trixie touching her reddened lips dozily. She looked fucked out, and they’d barely even French kissed.

As she caught Katya looking, she smiled.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

That carried a lot of weight, and Katya knew it. Trixie was out of her comfort zone in every sense, and yet she was still calling the shots. She set Katya’s pace, and she knew it. 

“How do you feel?”

Trixie paused, swollen bottom lip tucked under her front teeth.

“A little weird,” she confessed, sitting up beside Katya. She older woman didn’t miss the way her thighs tensed together, the arch in her back. “But good weird.”

“Are you wet?”

Katya moved away from the fire, wiping her hands clean on her jacket. Trixie looked totally ready for Katya, like she’d devour her given the choice. Still, puzzlement flitted across her face.

“Huh?”

Katya couldn’t imagine ‘ _huh’_ was supposed to be in the vocabulary of a princess, and it would’ve made her laugh in any other context.

Despite everything, Trixie looked confused, confronted. Then, Katya realised she didn’t know what she meant. That was okay. Trixie was willing to learn. She was a more-than-willing teacher.

“Are you wet down there, Trix? Do you feel all hot? What can you feel between your legs?”

Trixie gasped, like she couldn’t believe Katya _knew_ , and it made the older woman smile to watch as she untensed her legs slightly, confined by that long dress. 

“You can touch, princess. It’s okay.”

Suddenly, Trixie was shaken back to reality, looking the pirate dead in the eye.

“Listen, I… I’ve never...”

Trixie was losing her haze of arousal by the second, worry lacing her voice, and Katya quickly took her hands, pecking her softly on the lips.

“That’s okay,” she reassured. “I can teach you. You don’t need to apologise.”

They were close enough to the fire for Trixie’s whole body to be bathed in flickering, orange light. Even clothed, Katya could barely believe what she was seeing. 

She gave the princess a second to process, guiding her back down, laying close as if they were about to kiss again.

“Are you comfortable with this?”

“I want this.” Trixie confirmed, a charmingly-decisive stubbornness in her tone.

Who was Katya to argue with a princess? Still, she seemed physically reluctant, making no move closer to Katya or to free herself of any clothing. Katya waited for some indication from Trixie before she moved forward, only to be met with a wide-eyed stare. 

“I have heard it’s painful.” Trixie whispered, like she was admitting her deepest, darkest secret. Katya cupped her pretty face, feeling it burning hot with embarrassment, and kissed her, something she knew the younger woman was comfortable with.

“It shouldn’t be. It won’t be. I’m gonna let be in control of everything.” Katya promised, moving her hands away from Trixie’s body pointedly. "I won't touch you. If you don't want me to."

“What… what do you mean?” Trixie frowned, reaching out for Katya’s raised wrists.

But the older woman was sure. She wouldn’t interfere until Trixie understood what she was agreeing to. Plus, she couldn’t wait to see as Trixie fell apart on her own fingers.

“I’ll tell you what to do, but that’s it.”

“Okay.”

The princess was still laid out beside her, one arm cushioning her head, barely any distance between them.

“Really? You’re sure?" 

She gave Katya a long look, big eyes and plump lips trying convey total seriousness.

“I am completely certain.”

With this gorgeous woman laid out beside her, trusting her, _wanting_ her, Katya couldn’t imagine surviving alone on a the pirate ship for another second. She wanted to make Trixie feel good, more than anything. Make her feel comfortable and wanted and like she’d made the right decision to dive into the unknown when two weeks ago she hadn’t even heard the word _lesbian._ But Trixie had to learn about herself first. Small steps.

“Can you feel where you’re wet, Trixie? You’ve touched there before, right?”

She wasn’t waiting for answers before she kept talking, but Katya was relieved to see Trixie’s certain nods. Hopefully Trixie had some idea what Katya wanted from her.

She had taken the initiative to bunch up her skirt, just enough to rest her fingertips on her thighs, inching towards her crotch uncertainly. Katya forced herself not to help, not to guide Trixie’s hands with anything other than her words.

“I’m sure you _must_ be wet, down there, from the way you were kissing me. Does it feel good?”

Trixie nodded, but looked uncomfortable being watched. Her position was awkward, resting on one hip, skirts bunching over her thighs. They wouldn’t get much further like this, so Katya moved to sit behind her. Between Katya's spread legs, the younger woman’s posture was bolt upright, alert, so conscious of their bodies accidentally touching. Katya put a stop to that, pulling the younger woman’s knees apart until Trixie’s calves covered Katya’s shins. There was a clear relaxation of Trixie’s body once Katya’s hands touched the skin of her inner thigh, clammy fingers brushing over her blonde leg hair.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that? You might be the prettiest woman I’ve ever met.”

With a quick twist of her head, Trixie planted a kiss over Katya’s mouth, chaste but blatantly romantic. Nothing like yesterday’s friendly placation. It made the older woman grin. Only Trixie, in all her innocence and loving heart, would kiss her in thanks for _dirty talk_. Apparently compliments were the way to her heart, and Katya couldn’t do anything other than oblige. 

So, with her hands resting on the outsides of Trixe’s thighs, their bodies pressed together, she called on every Sappho poem she could remember, every thought about Trixie that had kept her up at night, every lover she’d ever found in a rocky hammock or above a grimy tavern.

“I just want you to feel good, Trixie. Please, touch yourself for me? Can you do that? I’d love to see you. Pull up your skirt some more.”

She was still wearing the purple dress Katya bought her at market, a little worse for wear but still lovely. The bodice was a pain to get off, but Trixie bunched the material out the way as best as she could.

“Just like that. Take everything off, so I can see you. Did you get everything all wet? I bet you did. I can smell it, Trixie. You smell so good.”

As much as Katya wanted to, she didn’t reach out. Not even when Trixie sighed deeply, fought to open her thighs even further, bounded by Katya’s legs. The older woman was still wearing trousers, and Trixie grasped at the worn material covering her right knee. 

“Can you touch with your fingers for me? Touch your body first, your hips. You’re all pretty and pink, Trixie. Can you see it too?”

Her view was obstructed by the blonde mass of Trixie’s hair, her braids removed to leave it loose and fluffy. Trixie rolled her head back onto Katya’s shoulder, slumped enough to let the older woman see past her cleavage. 

“Are you going to do what I say? Be good for me? I want you to be good for me, to do what I say. God, do you know what I want to do to you? Knowing you’re so wet. Between my legs, all ready. I wish I could touch you. I’m not going to, though."

"Christ, Trixie. Your body... I’m so wet for you."

_Please, my goddess, goldencrowned Aphrodite, let this lot fall to me._

“Can I touch your breasts, Trixie? I love your breasts. I love how they look when you ride, the way you move, how you rub them when they get sore. Can I open your dress? Can I put my fingers inside and feel how soft they are?"

"I bet they’d feel so good in my palms, or with my mouth on your nipples. Can I lick them, Trixie? Would you let me?"

Trixie was yet to touch herself with any real purpose, drawing long, lingering touches across her lips and pubic hair. The pressure of her body resting on top of Katya’s was bliss, and the pirate had to use her hands to brace the both of them from collapsing onto the blanket.

Whenever she used coarse language it drew a groan or a gasp out of Trixie, and it only encouraged her.

“Keep your fingers on your pussy Trixie, keep playing with yourself. You sound so wet, god. Do you like it when I talk about your breasts? About how amazing they look in that dress?” 

_Far sweeter-sounding than the lyre, far more golden than gold._

“I want you to find your clit, Trixie. I’m gonna tell you how to find it. It’s gonna feel so good."

"It’ll feel good, I promise. Does your pussy feel good, Trixie? It’s so pretty, I want you to look after it. Can you do that for me? Can you look after it? One day I’m gonna put my mouth on it, I’m gonna lick it and suck it until you forget everything else. I bet you taste so good, Trixie.”

It was strange, to explain to Trixie how to touch herself. She wasn’t even sure Trixie, in all her education and verbosity, had the vocabulary to describe what they were doing. Still, with a vacantly dreamy expression on her face and fingers desperately running between her own legs, she seemed to understand.

“Lick you fingers for me, get them nice and wet.”

Katya watched in delight as the princess followed her instructions completely unthinkingly. She could work with that.

“Can you find the top of your lips, Trixie? Can you make sure it’s wet, feel where it’s really good, where there’s a tiny little bump? You’re already touching it, that’s perfect. Make sure you rub gently, you don’t want to hurt that pretty pussy."

"Does it feel good? It looks good. Imagine I’m the one rubbing you. I’d do tiny little circles while I was kissing you. I can see how wet you are, even in the firelight. It’s so pretty, princess. You’re fucking beautiful.”

_Nightingale, sweet-voiced messenger of spring._

"You’re breathing really deeply, Trixie. Are you feeling good? Getting even wetter? God, you sound wet. I can hear it. I bet your face is gonna be so pretty when you come, Trixie. Is it building? Does your tummy feel tight? Like you’re gonna burst? Does it feel good? I love that you’re moaning. You’re gorgeous, Trixie. You sounds so cute. So pretty.”

It was hard to tell if Trixie had just gone quiet, or if she was getting closer. Her shallow breathing, her reddening skin heating up against the pirate's. Katya encouraged her, gravelly voice in her ear and gentle breath on Trixie’s face as she spoke.

“Are you still doing little circles? I might start going side to side, if I was touching you. Fast enough to make you squeal, so that you know you’re mine. Just like that. Do you like doing what I’m saying, baby? Do you like me being in control? You like me telling you exactly how to make yourself feel good? It’s so exciting, I love watching you.”

_O beautiful, o graceful girl._

“Are you getting close? Can you let me do it, Trixie? Do you need me to do it? You’re such a princess, Trixie. Do you want me to touch you? Need me to touch you?”

Katya no longer cared if Trixie needed her mouth on her pussy, she sure as hell did. She wanted Trixie to come, and she’d happily do it herself. At the sacrifice of her ramblings, she clambered in front of Trixie, letting the younger girl collapse down onto the blanket with wet fingers still fumbling her clit.

She replaced those hands with her mouth, sliding two of her own fingers inside Trixie and curling them up until the woman’s hips bucked with each contraction of Katya’s fingers.

Trixie came with the stars bright above her, Cassiopeia glinting through the trees and Katya between her legs, damn near falling in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quotes are Sappho quotes, because Katya obviously memorised them.  
> The smut here was an experiment. I probably won't write majority-dialogue smut like this again, but let me know if it was readable or not.
> 
> Much love and thanks to my wonderful beta, Laura.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I last updated, and I've re-edited the beginning of the fic to be good. I'd strongly recommend a re-read if you don't remember the story. (I sure as hell didn't.)
> 
> This is the last chapter. I hope you've enjoyed my adventure into more whimsical storytelling, and my complete disregard for historical accuracy. Thank you for reading x
> 
> Also, you can pry italics out of my cold, dead hands.

Trixie curled up to rest almost immediately, but Katya couldn’t follow. When she finally slept, it was shallow, and Trixie’s restless movements woke Katya up shortly after she’d finally found seep. She had to quash down her arousal, finally curling up around Trixie, a disconcerting warm feeling in her chest.

They laid there, sleepy and warmed by each other’s bodies in the brisk spring air, surrounded by a sea of bluebells which were hidden by the night. Trixie was heavy on top of her, her plush body making Katya ache where it crushed her into the forest floor. She didn’t mind, though.

Katya would rather lie half-pinned underneath Trixie, joints aching, than lie there separate from her. Eventually, though, they needed dinner. Katya took her sweet time hunting down a pheasant, growing increasingly frustrated as the birds saw her creep towards them, until she finally caught one. Trixie gasped as she brought the bird back, having cut its throat, and scrambled to built a spit to cook it on. They were running out of supplies, so fresh meat was much appreciated, however much the two women manage to burn it.  

As they ate, a thought occurred to her. A question she’d pondered a lot in the early days of their covert friendship, when Trixie was still tied up in the bowels of that pirate ship.

“Where were you going? Before you got stopped?”

Trixie huffed, apparently still awake, resting her chin on Katya’s breastbone.

“Stopped? You mean kidnapped?”

Katya winced, grimacing in the dark.

“Yeah.”

Silence. The older woman couldn’t see her face, but the feeling of warm breath across Katya’s cold skin was comfort enough.

“Madrid. I was supposed to meet a prince.”

That made sense. Katya couldn’t figure out what other purpose a princess could have travelling the open sea, other than being married off.

“Did you want to meet the prince?”

“No.”

Katya grinned wide, some of the bird still in her mouth as she spoke.

“Well, then. I’ve saved you from that horrible fate.”

“You are _far_ better than he would have been.” Trixie whispered, voice pretty and laced with flattery.

“Really?”

“Yes. He wouldn’t have been an ounce as funny, or smart, or brave as you.”

Trixie sighed, and Katya felt as her lungs expanded and deflated, felt the press of her breasts as her ribcage moved. It reminded that this was _real_. That she was really lying in the middle of a forest with a fugitive princess. That she was outcast and a criminal and she was happier than ever.

“I am certain he would not have taught me to stargaze. He would not have caught and cooked animals for our dinner with his bare hands, he would never recite me poetry. He would not have been nearly as patient as you.”

Katya rubbed Trixie’s back, over the dress she had helped her back into.

“I’m glad you didn’t end up with him. I cannot apologise enough for what happened to you, but I am so grateful we met.”

Trixie managed to coax Katya into another kiss, and then into a heated French kiss, and then finally to try and braid her hair. Katya couldn’t help but be amused, at the needy way Trixie asked for things. She wasn’t used to hearing ‘no’.

After one more long, deep kiss, Trixie needed to sleep.

“You are _so_ spoilt,” Katya whispered, stroking the younger woman’s braided hair as she cuddled in closer. Trixie hummed, half asleep, and Katya kissed her cheek once again. Like she needed to keep checking Trixie was flesh and blood, not a crow’s-nest-nap hypothermia-induced fever dream.

“I love that.”

*

As the sun rose the next morning, neither woman felt in a rush to leave. Even as their supplies dwindled, it couldn’t motivate them to move on from the tiny spot of paradise that the forest offered them. Katya was almost afraid the spell would wear off as soon as they left the shade provided by the canopy of fresh leaves above them, that maybe the spores of the flowers had lead Trixie to finally accept her affections.

Nonetheless, she couldn’t forgive herself if Trixie went a night hungry, and the horses were antsy for more travel. It was with reluctance that she finally cleared up their belongings, letting Trixie focus on the animals. Years of being on the move made packing feel like second nature, but her limbs seemed a little heavier, everything slightly more difficult today. Still, it wasn’t like she was losing Trixie. They were going together, for now.

The uncertainty of their future together felt all the most tangible now, and Katya was suddenly scared to talk to Trixie about it. That maybe she’d be dumped like an old gown the second they reached her kingdom limits. Her strong sense of duty, to get Trixie home safe, was the only reason she didn’t just feign being lost, have them ride full-speed the wrong way, until there was no chance of Trixie leaving her. Fortunately, years on a pirate ship hadn’t eroded her moral compass quite that far. Even more surprising than that, she really did trust Trixie. She took her at her word, after everything they’d shared. She believed that she really, really wouldn’t leave her by choice.

Just an hour after sunrise they left that clearing and headed for the nearest town Katya knew of, both hoping that everything really might be okay.

*

Even a few hours after daybreak, the nearest town was bustling. Traders, children, and farmers all fighting for space on the narrow roads. They were very little distance from the sea; Katya could see a belt of deep blue as they descended the valley towards the market square. She tried not to worry, hoping that her old crewmates had long since given up the hunt for them. They could easily set their sights on new money-making schemes, so Trixie was probably safe. It was the threat of revenge which kept Katya on her toes, squinting anxiously towards the horizon.

It was easy to put her nerves at rest with Trixie beside her, holding onto the horses and helping Katya to inelegantly dismount before guiding the animals through the streets. Crowds parted for them, and Trixie thanked them quietly, leading Katya to reconsider whether it was a good idea to come here. She had no idea how far from the city the princess would be recognised, but she had hoped for a quiet shopping trip – one last restock of their resources before they headed into the more dangerous city.

The more traders they spoke to, the more obvious it became that they recognised Trixie. Mothers ushered their children out to stare at her, some even going as far as curtseying if Trixie happened to catch their eye. It was _scary_ , the unnatural, exaggerated respect they treated her with. She practically forced money into the hands of a baker, accepting small cakes and loaves of bread graciously as they were thrust into her arms. Katya did most of the talking, leaving Trixie to smile politely at whoever happened to be gawking, gossiping.

Her fame helped them gather resources far quicker than Katya could have alone, but the pirate couldn’t help but be suspicious. At what cost? Was Trixie at risk? If word got back to the king, was _she_ at risk?

She knew far better than to display any physical intimacy with the princess in public – for so many reasons. Still, assumptions would be made, speculation crystallised as fact under the prying eyes of the people of Goring.

After some deliberation, sat by the sea out of earshot of any prying townspeople, Katya decided they should stay the night anyway. They’d both been excited by the prospect of a real bed, by warmth and a ceiling to shelter them from the rain.

There was plenty of money left from Pearl’s payment, helped massively by the fact Trixie had barely paid for their food and water. They could afford a room at the inn.

“How do they recognise you?”

She hadn’t meant to ask so bluntly, but Trixie just waved her off.

“We made a royal visit here a few years ago. We probably ought to make one again soon, come to think about it.”

Once again, Katya was struck by how much she didn’t understand about Trixie’s day-to-day. She had no idea that visits to places like Goring would feature on the royal itinerary, that there was any demand to go and see people in person. Perhaps Trixie was better travelled than Katya had given her credit for.

“Do you like it here?” she questioned, looking around to see if anyone had wandered too close. They were alone.

“It would not be my first choice for a place to live, but it’s a quaint town. The people are well-meaning, I think.”

Katya wondered if they were well-meaning enough to send a messenger to the castle. Whether they knew the princess was missing. Whether there would be royal mercenaries bearing down on them by the morning.

*

With an entire evening to kill, Katya found an inn on the edge of town. There was space to tie up the horses, to let them graze and drink. There were rooms which she presumed to be in a reasonable state. Most importantly, it seemed to be a decent pub.

They found a quiet corner to sit and drink in, a short distance from the fire and out of sight of the bar. Katya was delighted to learn that Trixie could _not_ handle her drink, and she was an absolutely outrageously funny drunk. Tipsy, Trixie’s etiquette slipped even further than it had in the solitude of the forest. Her hands found their way to Katya magnetically, seeking the True North of Katya’s body over and over again before the pirate gently moved them away.

She talked about all the amazing things she wanted to show Katya back at the palace. The library and the librarian who she loved, the grounds and all the drama in her family which Katya felt treasonous for even hearing. How much she missed her old nanny, the woman who raised her when her mother didn’t. Katya wanted to meet that woman and personally shake her hand on raising such a goddess.

Katya barely felt drunk when she decided it was time for bed, warm and easy as she helped Trixie up the stairs to the room the landlady insisted they should have for free.

“It’s not much, but there’s two beds my lady.” She’d insisted, speaking only to Trixie and pointedly ignoring the silver piece Katya left on her counter. “I’ll bring water up in the morning.”

Trixie tried to look sober as she thanks the woman, staggering up the stairs and leaving Katya to trail behind, carrying all their belongings.

If the pirate had been a little more sober, she might have requested a second room. Tried to distance herself from Trixie in the bar, stabilised her without wrapping an arm around her waist. But, drunk on mead and intoxicated by Trixie, she forgot. Forgot that the walls had ears, and that landlords love nothing more than to gossip. The honey wine made Trixie even louder, as she whined for Katya’s fingers and cuddling and kissing all at the same time, before promptly falling asleep on her. Still, as she realised how thin the walls were, how loud Trixie was, the damage had already been done. She just had to wait for morning, and see if it brought a squad of king’s men. Outside, the sliver of light from the hallway was extinguished.

*

She was surprised to wake up alive and free in Goring, but Katya had no complaints. They left as quickly as possible, after a meal from the disgruntled inn owner. Apparently, Trixie and Katya were far from the only ones with wicked hangovers.

The remainder of their journey was far more pleasant with adequate resources, and Katya expected a significant surplus of food – even if they took their time travelling the rest of the way to the palace. Back to Trixie’s home. Towards whatever fate awaited an ex-pirate in this kingdom.

But it was easy for Katya keep her mind away from that particular anxiety, with Trixie by her side.

One night, camping by a small creek a few hundred feet from the main road, Trixie asked if she could learn to eat Katya out. Laid back on the blanket Katya managed to stop the battle inside her mind.

To forget about cutlasses and pistols and creative death penalties, and instead think about the texture of Trixie’s tongue against her coarse pubic hair, against her clit, poking experimentally against her opening. For just a matter of long, wonderful minutes, she could imagine they weren’t headed towards an unforgiving judgement day. She could think about Trixie’s dainty hands, making their way across the skin of her thighs and hips, bracing her own face as she tried to undo Katya with her mouth.

“Teach me now,” Trixie had asked her the night before. Begged her. Watched as Katya made herself come for the princess to observe, judge, try to understand.

Now, she was trying to copy what Katya had done, read the cues of her body, even as the pirate tried to stay quiet.

Katya came almost with regret, wishing she had more time with Trixie. To learn each other’s bodies, fall in love with her, care for her. Now that they were in a town where Trixie had been recognised, they lived on borrowed time. Perhaps there were guards chasing after them already, it was too late and there was no hope for Katya making it through another night.

Going back to the palace would be unlikely to yield any great results for Katya, aside from the knowledge that Trixie was back to safety. She could be arrested, hung, god knows what.

She’d been putting it off, offering Trixie easier, longer routes, offering days of resting and telling her:

“We could go back to the palace whenever you want. It’s few days’ ride, as the crow flies.”

Now, though, it was time to go. To move on. To sell the horses and stash some of her gold where it wouldn’t be confiscated. Trixie watched it all with a sadness, holding onto Katya’s hand whenever she felt confident they would be left alone.

“I would never let any harm come to you.” She’d reassure, showing Katya the flipside of their standard relationship. Trixie could look after her here. She was helpless. There was no ocean to navigate or rouges to fight. The princess’ status was their greatest weapon and skill. It was what might lose Katya her head.

*

Their last night in the forest, under careful instruction, Trixie ate Katya out. She was sloppy, rough, wide tongue strokes that were more than enough for the woman underneath her, Katya’s strong legs shaking around her neck. The heaviness in Katya’s chest couldn’t be relieved by Trixie’s warm mouth, a tinge of sadness that never quite left her mind, even as Trixie figured out she could _suck_ around Katya’s clit even as she played with her pussy lips.

Afterwards, Trixie struggled to choke out her words, too emotional to speak.

“We should wait, until morning. It is late.”

Late.

Katya couldn’t agree more. In fact, she’d happily wait until the next winter, maybe into the next decade, until they were so cold she couldn’t even kiss Trixie any more and they finally had to relent, run back to the castle half-frozen to death and hope they’d be offered blankets to shiver under. 

She didn’t want to share. To have other people talk to Trixie and touch her and dress her. To take her time away and to make her forget about the way she’d felt when it was just the two of them. Maybe it was just a symptom of how much time they’d spent together. Or of her fear that there was simply no way she could fit into the life of a noblewoman, no matter how compatible they felt.  

She didn’t want Trixie to be wrenched back into reality and remember everything she was supposed to believe as a princess. To turn back into a proper etiquette and be a lady and definitely not eat out a piratess in the middle of the countryside.

In the time they’d spent together, Trixie hadn’t seemed like nobility to anyone but Katya

Frankly, Katya didn’t know how to act in a regular society any more, let alone in a royal court . She had been blissfully close to forgetting that her oddities were, in fact, odd.

She could hardly bear the idea that their closeness was a product of being the only option available to Trixie, her only source of comfort. Whenever she was with Trixie, it never felt that way. When she stopped cuddling the younger woman as close and was answered with a whine, when Trixie wordlessly and painstakingly combed out Katya’s hair after a long day of her getting annoyed with it. Still, as an insomniac in the dead of night, fear crept up on her. Fear that Trixie would abandon her once civilisation beckoned, hand her over to keep favour with her parents.

*

Trixie dropped her hand once they were in eyesight of the city walls. She did it silently, with an apologetic parting stroke of her thumb across the back of Katya’s hand.

They walked towards the bustling city without a second thought; Katya knew if they thought too hard about the finality of returning to Trixie’s life, they might run all the way back to that clearing in the forest.

Before she took her second step past the city gates, Katya found herself pinned to the ground, watching as a panicked Trixie was escorted away from her. She watched at an angle, mud on her face, at how Trixie struggled. The princess’ arms were confined by firm guards’ hands, gloves holding her tightly, as she was marched closer to the intimidating castle, which loomed over the wooden buildings that surrounded it.

They weren’t physically harming Trixie, Katya was sure. She would be fine. No one would dare hurt the second-heir to the throne. Nonetheless, she saw how upset Trixie was getting, fighting to crane her head back, wanting to see Katya where she was being hauled to her feet by the guards.

For as long as Trixie was in sight, she could ignore the pain of men’s hands grasping her, their grips bruising even though Katya was not fighting in the slightest.

She had expected this. Trixie had promised – genuinely believed – otherwise. That Katya might be welcome as a hero and a friend of the royal family. Her memory for faces was not the best, but she was almost certain the man about to interrogate her had been on the boat Trixie was kidnapped from.

A gruff: “You’re the bitch who shot me.” confirmed those suspicions.

She tried to stutter out a defence of herself, as she watched Trixie disappear between the villagers’ houses.

*

The castle was so familiar to Trixie, she was unsure as to why she was being escorted.

Perhaps they were afraid she might disappear again, certainly the way she demanded Katya be released, threatened to leave without the ex-pirate by her side _immediately_ hinted as such.

She pushed thoughts of Katya to the back of her mind, as her mother rushed down the corridor. She was not running, but certainly walking as quickly as her slipper-adorned feet would allow.

“Beatrice…” she breathed, holding her daughter at arm’s length, examining her.

She looked very different to when she left, Trixie suspected. Skinnier and a little more muscular, far more tanned and hair far shorter, an even fairer blonde.

It was unbecoming, her mother had always said, to have the tan of a common farmer. Still, Trixie had loved the feeling of the sun on her skin. The tightness that overexposure to warm light left her with, keeping her warm at night. Trixie could not bring herself to feel regret for the freckles which bloomed on her cheeks and arms, which Katya cooed over as they relaxed each evening.

Her dress was muddied, not up to the quality expected for a princess, but she loved it. Her mother, she suspected, had other ideas.

“Beatrice! We are so glad to see you back. Please, go and tidy up. Then you can come and meet your father and I.”

Her audience with the king must be more formal, Trixie knew. She had to look the part of the princess, try to exercise vanity in a way she had been freed from for the last several months. Before her mother bustled away, without even a hug for her long-kidnapped daughter, Trixie made a request.

“I arrived with a woman, her name is Katya. Have the guard bring her here.”

Her mother gave her a puzzled look, eyebrows furrowed suspiciously.

“Please, she saved my life.”

With a nod to an attending soldier, the Queen marched away.

*

She washed numbly, sat staring at the mirror in her old vanity as her mother’s ladies-in-waiting tutted and brushed out her hair, changed out of the dress she loved so much into a far nicer silk gown. The one made by the palace seamstress was so much nicer, fitted her perfectly – although it was a little loose these days – but she still missed the gown Katya had bought her.

Swept down for an audience with the king, the stone corridors felt so alien. She’d walked them all her life, taken them for granted.

The new heeled slippers on her feet felt so uncomfortable, too soft against her newly hardened soles. They clicked against the floor, echoed by the entourage that seemed to shadow her every movement back inside these walls.

There were plenty of people around her, but none of them made her feel safer, less alone.

As much as she dreaded a reunion with her parents, it could bring her closer to Katya, and that was enough incentive to rush – stupid shoes be damned.

*

“Oh, Beatrice.”

There was a sliver of emotion in her father’s voice, as he stood from his seat to meet her. Like her mother, Trixie’s father did not hug her. He held on to her gently, just a few fingers in contact with her sleeved forearms. The king assessed her face, trying to read into what had happened to his only daughter in the time since he saw her last.

Sometimes, when he did things like this, Trixie could understand that maybe he really did have her best interests at heart, even when he struggled to express it.

“How have you been? Your mother was worried sick.”

Trixie bit down a laugh.

“Fine, thank you Father.”

God, it was unnatural. After laughing and jeering with Katya, Trixie could hardly believe this was how she was expected to talk to those who loved her. So publicly, so formally, observed by guards and servants who had gossiped about her since she was born.

“I was rescued, by a woman. She arrived with me, but the guards took her away. I should like her to be thanked for her bravery.”

The King and Queen exchanged glances, knowingly. Trixie suspected her parents had talked before she got here, that perhaps Katya had already been interrogated, imprisoned, or exonerated. But Trixie had some influence in this kingdom, and she would do whatever it took to get Katya freed.

Preferably, freed and living in some close proximity to her.

The princess already had several ideas on how to do that.

“Your mother mentioned as much. I will have her found.” The King promised, back in his throne to watch Trixie with a frown. “You must be starving, my dear. Join us for dinner.”

“I would like that. Perhaps Katya might join us too.”

Trixie did not wait, already facing the ground to curtsey before sweeping out of the room. Despite her complaints, she already enjoyed the theatricality of her long, heavy dress, the way she had to drag it along behind her in order to leave.

She hoped her impudence might be put down to exhaustion. She certainly was exhausted.

*

There was no sign of Katya in the dungeons, even after Trixie struggled to make her way down to the cells against the jailors’ wishes. It made sense, that Katya might be held somewhere else, where Trixie would not seek her out.

The secrecy and separation was all in pursuit of defending her, Trixie presumed. In protecting her from any kind of blackmail or threat the pirate might have had over her.

She had a sneaking suspicion that the guards knew who Katya was. Knew of her by legacy, or from her part in the battle as the royal vessel was boarded all those months ago. Trixie had known very little of pirate legend, but she had seen the look of fear on her guards’ faces as the flag because visible, Katya’s crew bearing down on them in the middle of the channel.

She felt like a whole new person, to the girl who was kidnapped. All she had learnt, about the world and about herself, it built her into someone who could not quite fit in here.

It would be cliché, to say that her experience with Katya had brought her into emotional womanhood, matured her well beyond her years. Perhaps the timing was coincidence.

*

She hunted down Katya a little more before dinner, but to very little avail. There was not much that happened inside these walls without the planning of the ladies-in-waiting or the royals themselves, and Trixie knew she would not be reunited with Katya until they felt it was appropriate.

 Her stomach was heavy with dread, filled with stones and worry, as she opened the doors to the grand hall once more. She noted the number of places laid, the room which was filled with what could be considered the guest list of a very small, last minute party.

Her brother, his wife, the King and Queen, members of the court, a few noblemen and women whom her parents were keen on. She sat with a smile to each of their guests, hands folded politely in her lap as she waited for the rest of their company to arrive. Which they did, slowly, all but one.

There was a seat empty, in view of her own.

Isolated, around ten feet and two tables away from the royalty, with spaces each side for guards to be stationed. Trixie could only hope she knew who that seat was for.

It was not until midway through the starter that Katya was led into the room, blessedly walking free but still in her ragged clothes from travelling. There was some mud and straw on her beloved coat, presumably from wherever she had been kept whilst Trixie looked for her.

She saw the princess instantly, their eyes meeting as soon as she was through the door to the hall, but cast her gaze towards the ground.

The King had, predictably, already indulged in plenty of wine. He greeted Katya with a swing of his arms, causing a pitcher of water to tumble as he shouted.

“Ah! You!”

Like a startled animal, Katya stared up at him. Her hands were clasped into fists, her feet frozen on the ground as she waited for the King to make his next move. She need not have worried, he immediately slumped back into his chair.

“This is the woman who aided you, yes?” Her mother prompted, and Trixie remembered to conceal her smile, before speaking.

“Yes. I should like her to be rewarded for what she has done for me.”

Katya’s gaze was back on the ground, her face and body language schooled into respectful neutrality. Trixie hated it.

“Rightfully so!” the King announced,

“She… is a pirate.”

Her brother had been quiet for too long. It always made Trixie suspicious when that happened, and now she recalled why. She had always felt he lacked the tact required of a good king. Damn the kingdom’s preference for sons in inheriting the crown.

“Do not be ridiculous.” Her mother snapped, squinting down at Katya with suspicion. Blatantly able to hear them, Katya had once again frozen. Trixie was sure she must be as hungry as the princess, but her food was untouched.

“The guard informed me of it.” He insisted, snootily. “You must know, _Beatrice_.”

Trixie huffed.

“She _was_ a pirate. But she cared for me, helped me escape. She deserves pardoning.”

The King frowned. It seemed that the conversation had managed to penetrate his wine-haze. Trixie tried not to feel fear on Katya’s behalf. It would all work out, she was certain.

“Is this true?”

The King stood, weight transferring to the table to stop himself from swaying as he leant forwards Katya, still frozen in her chair.

“It is, your majesty. However, I did not agree with the kidnapping of the princess. I freed her the moment I could, and brought her back home. I hope you might not begrudge me for wanting to make amends for the wrongdoings of my crew.”

Bullshit. Just like Trixie had taught her the night before, right down to the words, to the less-accented way Katya pronounced each word. Her parents seemed impressed, her father giving the ex-pirate a solemn nod.

“Very well. I thank you for your service.”

Her mother nodded her agreement, returning for a sip of her mead.

Whilst he was drunken, Trixie felt confident in pushing her luck.

“The whole experience was rather terrifying, I might not have survived if it were not for Katya.” Laying it on thick. “I would like to offer her lodgings here, whilst she gets her bearings.”

The King was barely paying attention, digging into the main course as it was being delivered by kitchen staff. Her mother answered.

“Of course, Beatrice. Anything you want.”

“Perhaps Ginger’s old room?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her brother scoffing, staring down at Katya. Trixie paid no mind, though. All she could watch was how Katya’s shoulders had slightly relaxed, a fork finally held clumsily in her hand.

*

Choosing Ginger’s old room had been undeniably strategic. It was a single, small room, with one tiny window and a barely-comfortable bed. The walls were bare stone, there was scarely any furniture, and Katya was glad for it. She hated the clutter, the extravagance, of the palace. Sure, the room was cold and minimal, but if she stood on her tip-toes Katya had the slightest view of the lake. It was no roaring ocean, but it would have to do. Most importantly, her door adjoined Trixie’s quarters.

The princess had been a little put out by the changes to her room since she’d left. Some of her nicer jewellery had been taken, apparently given to her sister-in-law for the events she had been replacing Trixie at. Furniture had been moved, the room used by visitors, her clothes packed away at the back of her wardrobe.

The space she had tailored to feel like hers, like her home, totally rummaged through and broken up.

She had checked the door was locked, then held Katya tight, before finally rummaging to find a nightdress.

*

The palace was _weird_. Katya was so unused to having her independence stripped away, her every movement inspected.

The ship was busy, full of people who knew her far too well, saw her at her worst and her most ecstatic and her most bizarre. But they were all the same, all loners, with found families and the craziest lifestyle imaginable.

At least, the craziest lifestyle she could have conceived of before her first meal at the palace, with all its courses and superfluous cutlery, a hundred different plates and servants who were too afraid to make eye contact. The hierarchy of the palace was so strange, she found herself being constantly corrected by Trixie on who to talk to, who not to talk to, and how to talk to them.

She had no idea how to address the King and Queen, how not to make inappropriate jokes, sit with her legs folded bizarrely in the dining hall, stretch her way across the pristinely kept lawns which she was _absolutely not_ supposed to walk on.

Katya knew she should behave, not draw attention to herself, in the way Trixie kept herself unobtrusive and polite. Still, the smile on Trixie’s face when Katya profusely thanked a maid, spoke to a court jester like a fellow pirate, meant she could not be tempted to curb her own personality.

If there was one thing she had to concede on, though, it was her clothes.

The first morning she had awoken alone, far too early, in Trixie’s nanny’s old room. She watched the sunrise stood on her bed, watching as she saw the stone and wooden furniture lit up by natural light for the first time.

It really was nothing special. Being near Trixie, though? That was special.

“Katya?”

The quiet knock on her door came some time later, when the light was still new, but no longer reflecting golden off the lake outside.

“Are you awake?”

Katya rushed to open the door, blushing at a freshly-awoken Trixie in a white nightgown. Katya herself had just slept in undergarments which were totally practical, and definitely in need of a wash. Still, they apparently made Trixie’s cheeks heat up a pretty pink.

Wordlessly, the princess drew her in for a hug, head resting heavily against Katya’s.

“Good morning.” The pirate whispered, fingers playing with the lacy strap of Trixie’s gown.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

She spoke deeply, neck still pressed against Katya’s face so closely that she could feel Trixie’s chest move with each syllable.

“What happens today?”

Trixie kept holding on, but moved her upper body away from Katya’s, talking to her face-to-face.

“You need a bath.”

*

Whilst Katya bathed, the princess occupied herself rummaging through clothes to find something which might fit her companion. Her wardrobe had a solitary old dress, one almost worn to death by a teenage Trixie, which was small enough to fit. One of the ladies in waiting, with a similar stature and a curiosity about their new guest, offered a spare corset and shoes.

By the time Katya walked back into Trixie’s room, leaving her own wrapped in a cloth to dry herself, a full outfit was laid out on Trixie’s four-poster bed. Katya looked at it with trepidation, scoffing at the _niceness_ of everything. The sheer impracticality of pale blue fabrics and dainty shoes which would undoubtedly hurt her feet far more than a worn-in pair of leather boots. Still, she gathered that a wardrobe change was very much non-negotiable.

Trixie would be lying if she said she hated trying to tie Katya into a corset. Sure, the ex-pirate found it frustrating and painful, uncomfortable in a way that had her complaining almost instantly.

It was also _funny_. Weird. Exciting. To see Katya literally being forced to fit into a life that Trixie had to comply to.

“I hate this.” The pirate repeated to herself, as one of Trixie’s handmaids dug a knee into her back.

‘This is barely even tight’, the handmaid kept insisting, looking desperately towards Trixie as the pirate groaned and argued against the garment being tightened. Trixie believed her, but she was having far too much fun watching Katya, half undressed, breasts pressed up enticingly and her hips exaggerated by the flare of the corset.

Finally, Trixie put her out of her misery, asking the maid to tie off the corset, then dress, before dismissing her.

“You look pretty.” Trixie told her, trailing a hand along Katya’s unnaturally narrowed waist, the line where her slender hips started below the fabric. She had less cleavage than Trixie, her breasts not being crushed by the material the way in which Trixie’s tended to be, but the curve the corset created was still captivating to Trixie.

She had always loved corsets, the way they made ladies-in-waiting and servants look. The pain they could cause was the bane of her life, but the princess appreciated the figures they cut, watching other women in the court. She had never enjoyed a corset so much as on Katya.

Who evidently hated the whole experience.

Before they left for breakfast, Trixie had a few maids appear to tend to her fair, pinch at her face and apply pigments.

As she waited, Katya fussed at her skirts, complaining about the weight of them, insisting it could not be right. She was used to freedom, to climbing sails and wearing clothes for warmth and protection. Tan lines peaked through the top of her dress, silhouettes of her previous life, and Trixie could see how much more exposed she must feel.

“You would stand out, wearing trousers and a jacket,” Trixie apologised, whispering although her maids could most certainly hear. The princess knew rumours would already be spreading from the servers at yesterday’s dinner, however. She had to assume everything they heard was public knowledge.

Katya just nodded.

On the walk down, a thought struck Trixie. She pulled the pirate aside, finding an alcove and dodging Katya’s immediate attempt to kiss her with a giggle.

“You must call me Beatrice, again.”

“Why?” Katya laughed, much to Trixie’s dismay. She was deadly serious.

“Because ‘Princess Trixie’ doesn’t really carry the same weight.”

More laughter.

Still, at a deeply awkward family breakfast with far more courses than could be considered reasonable, Katya behaved herself.

*

Trixie was no where near as excited to be home as Katya might have hoped; that much was clear from their first dinner back with the princess’ family.

Nonetheless, one thing in particular lit Trixie up with happiness.

“Just around here,” Trixie told her, leading Katya down endless corridors with one tight grip on her hand. The princess’ widened as a heavy door creaked open under her hands, leading Katya to trail behind.

 _My favourite room in the palace,_ Trixie had told her. The only place she could be at peace, escape.

The library.

The room was huge, hidden away in the lower floors, with scattered plush chairs and floor to ceiling bookshelves. Old tomes lined each wall, some of which could clearly only be accessed by a ladder. There were stacks of books everywhere, too. Over spilling shelves on to the floor and atop tables, bound in a muted rainbow of dyed leathers and fabrics, apparently tended to by a small elderly man who gasped as he saw Trixie return.

He creaked out of his chair, old bones moving to hug the princess tightly.

“I am so glad to see you back, dear.”

“I have missed the library so much,” Trixie spoke with reverence which Katya previously had only observed in a church, fingers reaching out to touch some of the books which covered the librarian’s desk.

After small talk, largely focused around Trixie’s wellbeing and changes to the library, Katya was introduced. The librarian looked more knowing than anyone else Katya had been introduced to thus far, and Katya wondered what he might understand, looking over Katya’s scarred face. She suspected he knew more than most people, at any rate. But if Trixie trusted him, Katya had no concerns.

Suddenly, midsentence, his wrinkled face lit up.

“Oh! Trixie! I have something for you!”

The princess smiled back, which genuine enthusiasm, and Katya caught herself smiling too.

The librarian was the only person who Katya had heard use the name Trixie, distinct even through the gravel of his aged voice. ‘My friends call me Trixie’ was the first thing she had told Katya, aboard the pirate ship all those months ago. Katya tried to smile politely, watching the man bustle around his desk, even as her heart broke for how lonesome Trixie must be here.

“I saved a list; All the books I found whilst you were gone, which I thought you might like. A new couple of books came in, I hoped you might want to read them.”

He handed over a thick piece of paper, covered with neat cursive which could not have meant less to the pirate. Still, Trixie looked over it with delight, mouthing some of the words as she read them.

“Thank you so much. This is too kind.”

The librarian bounced on his toes, standing a clear foot shorter than Trixie, taking a moment to smile kindly at Katya before he spoke again.

“Take out whatever you like, I can help you find them.”

The rest of the day was spent in the library, punctuated by a visit from the infamous Ginger – Trixie’s nanny who was stern enough to unsettle even Katya, making her sit up straighter and nod politely. Ginger took a moment to scold Trixie for worrying her, to talk about how she cared for Prince Henry’s new baby now, and she much preferred the princess’ easy company. Katya had no opportunity to even open her mouth before the nanny left again, insisting her presence was needed elsewhere. She gave a curious smile to the librarian, and Katya noticed the man’s blush as Ginger walked past.

Katya could not read, she was fascinated by the way Trixie’s eyes moved over the page, her mouth open and face relaxed as she got into the story. The princess apologised, each time she noticed Katya getting restless, bored and frustrated by her own illiteracy. The princess moved her chair next to Katya’s dragging a finger along the page as she read sections of the story out loud.

She made very little progress, in teaching Katya to read, but nonetheless Katya enjoyed the day immensely. They left the library – already late for dinner – with armfuls of books each, Trixie’s excitement both adorable and contagious, even as she was scolded for her lateness.

*

It took a whole week before the couple had sex in Trixie’s bed. It was gorgeous, a four poster, with soft sheets and more space than Katya could imagine sleeping in alone for all those years. Still, even after Katya sat in her room before bed, staring out at all the stars she could see from Trixie’s window, Trixie had failed to initiate anything.

It took her time. Trixie needed time to settle their relationship, to reform what they had in secret, for the palace to grow accustomed to the suspicious new face which was appearing in the banquet hall each meal; a face which was all angles and tan and tiny scars which Katya kept insisting were from nothing more than nicks. Nonetheless, the staff failed to trust her, reluctant to leave Trixie alone with her during the day until the ex-pirate had won them all over with easy charm and self-awareness usually absent from aristocracy.

In Trixie’s absence, Katya had touched herself at night, on her straw-filled mattress just a few dozen feet from Trixie’s luxurious woollen one. Her fingers had wandered, under bed clothes and in natural darkness, as she thought about Trixie; hoping against hope that the younger woman was doing exactly the same thing. Despite the loneliness of her late nights, she felt secure in Trixie’s affections for her. It was a matter of time before they could sleep side by side again.

Secrecy had not extinguished their relationship in the way Katya had feared. Instead, it made things erratic, sporadic, intense. Every embrace and touch of their hands was even more valuable, so scarce that a brush of Trixie’s soft skin felt like it burnt against the roughness of Katya’s own body.

It was something else, to see Trixie in her element; all trussed up. She made courtiers swoon, at the sight of her graceful smile and easy charm, apparently almost forgotten by those she left behind all those months ago. There were plenty of people in the kingdom pleased to see her back, greeting her with fearful or adoring nods, bowing in the streets.

Kaya hardly left her side; was seldom left alone by the princess for fear they might be permanently separated.  The guards were still far from keen on the pirate, some shooting warning looks if she tried to offer them a friendly smile or walked too close.

Obviously word had gotten back to the other palace staff, some of whom gave Katya suspicious looks, monitored her. Trixie’s brother knew, as well.

Katya had been hidden in her room one day, the door closed but hardly preventing the passage of any sound between her room and Trixie’s.

“How long is the pirate staying?” The prince had asked, and Katya could imagine Trixie sat at her vanity, taking deep breaths to stay calm.

She had heard all about Trixie’s brother, who was younger but had recently inherited a sense of entitlement which sickened the princess – who was admittedly fairy entitled herself. Still, a sense of destiny which ruling a kingdom seemed to have made the prince especially insufferable.

“As long as I should like her too.” Trixie replied, voice levelled. Katya moved closer to her own door, desperate to hear.

“I assume you are unaware of her reputation.”

“I am aware of who she is now.”

“She is a ruthless killer, they all are. Pirates are _not_ to be trusted, Bea.”

 _Fuck._ It was fair to say Katya had spoken to Trixie fairly minimally about the less romantic parts of her past. She was still proud of the reputation she had garnered, though. It was a little refreshing to hear that their legacy had permeated even the palace walls. She heard Trixie cough.

“I don’t believe you have ever even seen the sea, Henry. You cannot know that.”

“Be careful, Beatrice. I want her gone soon.”

“It is not your choice.”

“On your head be it.” Katya could almost hear how the prince’s nose was in the air, snooty and stubborn.

As Henry left, he pushed heavily on Katya’s door, pushing an eavesdropping Katya away from the wood and making her stumble in her heels. The clatter wrought a laugh out of the prince, before he slammed Trixie’s door, and Katya felt her face burn red with shame.

“You alright?” she called out.

Trixie failed to reply, and she heard the door open and close a second time.

*

Whatever Trixie had made of her brother’s interruption, it was short lived. Fortunately, because the pirate had been so anxious she could hardly keep her breath steady. Visions of Trixie having her arrested, or banished, haunted her as Katya wandered the grounds. Saving her from her own thoughts, Trixie actually sought Katya out in the gardens barely an hour later, coming alone and meekly, whispering apologies for her absence and sweet nothings in full view of the palace windows before whisking her to the banquet hall.

It was that late night when Trixie finally came to her, after a celebration banquet and a round of dancing which Trixie writhed out of as soon as possible. Katya heard a knock at her door. On the other side, there could have only been Trixie. Only Trixie, with her gentle knock and imposing presence, with her hair softly rolled up and her face bare, feet in her beaten-up silk slippers which she could never find a comfy-enough replacement for.

The princess poked her head through the door to Katya’s room and silently beckoned her to bed, a heavy bolt had been pulled across the door to ensure they were truly alone.

It hurt, to see how fearful Trixie was. How she hushed Katya when they spoke alone late at night, or altered the conversation late at night. So Katya tried to let her forget, walked her back to the four-poster and laid her out, paid all her attention to undoing every single one of the tiny buttons down the back of Trixie’s dress, knowing the princess was watching with held breath, feeling the tiny pressure of Katya’s fingers through her bodice.

She worked her way up, until the last button left her perfectly placed to slide both halves of the green material from Trixie’s shoulders, pressing a kiss to the naked expanse of Trixie’s back as it was revealed.

“Katya.” She whispered, turning her head to watch the door, still firmly latched closed.

The stone of the room was unforgiving, echoing sound mercilessly, even with the window drapes pulled closed. There should be no one around, though. They were fine.

“We’re alone.” Katya promised, taking Trixie’s head in both hands and turning the princess to kiss her deeply, sat in a puddle of her dress, wearing only a corset from her hips up.

Trixie hummed quietly into the kiss, still tense, body still angled towards the door. 

“Just you and me.” Katya promised, fingers reaching for the tight strings drawing Trixie’s corset closed. “Imagine is no one else is here.”

Trixie nodded, still mute, reaching to undo Katya’s tight dress.

It was a relief to be out of it. Trixie could handle those latches far better than Katya could hope to, undoing them as quickly as running her hands down the pirate’s spine, loosening the corset so effortlessly that Katya barely registered the movements, until she was grunting in relief at being freed from the undergarment.

Trixie rubbed her fingers over the pinches and grooves the corset had left on Katya’s skinny ribs, sighing as she noticed the sore spots on the other woman’s sensitive skin.

Katya just watched, as Trixie undid her own corset to match, the same patches marked red on her velvety skin. Katya went straight for the lines marked into Trixie’s breasts, tracing them with her fingers, teasing circles around Trixie’s nipples until the younger woman dragged her back in for a kiss, pulling at the dress around Katya’s slender hips until she could free her from the material.

Their skirts and layers were thrown atop each other on the floor, which Katya was certain they would regret tomorrow if the maids found them, as Katya pushed Trixie back onto the bed, watching as she sunk into the soft blankets.

Trixie’s hair had been neatened up in the course of the week, cut to an even length and made even straighter. Katya tugged on it whenever she could, using it to hold Trixie’s neck back so the could lick across her skin. She was careful not to leave a mark as she felt the grooves and stretch marks of Trixie’s skin with her sensitive tongue, leaving a wet path too cool against the flush which arousal left on the princess’ skin.

She succeeded in distracting Trixie with her tongue, whispered words, clever, calloused fingers. But the princess still held a pillow across her own face as she came, hiding the raggedness of her breath each time Katya swiped her tongue across her swollen clit. Each desperate moan was music to Katya’s ears – she fought against her better judgement to keep Trixie making noise as long as she could, gentle sucks guiding her through a second orgasm until Trixie’s big thighs tried to close around her head.

She still hushed Katya later, as the pirate made herself come, body spooned by Trixie’s. The princess’ fingers filled Katya’s pussy, her other delicate hand being bitten down on by the pirate in an attempt to stop her from screaming.

They slept curled up together, after Trixie licked their fingers clean, until a knock came at the door. Trixie went from sleepy to wild-eyes in a second of sharp realisation, wildly pointing at the door to Katya’s room until the pirate conceded and returned to her own room, dragging her pale dress off the floor behind her. Trixie collapsed back into the bed, recovering from her panic, wincing at the obvious sound of Katya’s door slamming closed. The was certain that whoever was outside had heard, but it was too early to care.

*

The prince’s suspicions had them both on edge, feeling unable to even embrace without wondering who could be watching from the shadows.

Trixie felt like a prisoner in her own home, subject to constantly spying from the staff, suspicion from her brother, curious glances from her parents.

At a natural lull in conversation the next evening, Trixie finally forced herself to ask something which herself and Katya had been wondering, asking in hushed tones in bed just after sunrise.

“Did you ever receive a message, from the ship where I was held captive?”

Her father answered, his tone casual, even as Trixie hung off his every word.

“Yes. A pirate arrived on horseback around a fortnight ago, demanding ransom.”

Katya, now permitted to sit beside Katya at the family banquet table, faltered in her movements. Trixie would not have noticed, had she not been waiting for the pirate’s reaction. Trixie had to ask.

“What happened to them?”

“Hung.”

Like a switch was flipped in Katya’s brain, it was all she could think about. It was difficult to sip at the rich venison soup, knowing that somewhere on this land Monet had lost her life. Young, cunning, charming Monet. She felt sick, about to choke on her food, spoon halfway to her mouth before her shaking hands laid it back down. Trixie said nothing either, acknowledging her father’s response with a casual nod, despite the second she took to grip Katya’s hand under the table.

“Perhaps you could help us find the rest of them, _Katya_. Hang the whole bunch!” The Prince commented, shoving a chunk of bread in his mouth.

Trixie’s brother gave them a smug look, leaning past the queen to make sure Trixie’s saw. He had mispronounced Katya’s name, part of some private game to unnerve the pirate which he had been playing since she arrived. Next to him, Henry’s wife looked down at her hands, clasped awkwardly in her lap. The prince continued, spitting as he spoke. Apparently, women were the only ones required to have manners.

“Before then, we actually heard of a sighting, the pair of you at a pub in _Goring_ , of all places.” He was laughing, without any mirth or good-nature. Katya felt chilled to the bone, staring down at the table, not trusting herself to look up for fear of breaking down.

“Yes. Katya got us rooms there, on the journey back.” Trixie acknowledged. “I was not aware you had _spies_ that far out, Henry.”

*

“Trixie, I think you know there is no way I will help them track down Dela and Shangie. They would kill them. I’m sorry. I know what that crew did to you, but I cannot betray them. They were my family.”

“Of course.” 

Trixie was barely listening, almost hyperventilating as they rushed back to her room. After their confrontation, dinner had passed agonisingly slowly, the tension between Trixie and her brother so heavy it physically ached to be underneath. The women had left immediately, Trixie waving off a game with her family, feigning a headache, before dragging the pirate down the corridors back to her room as fast as she could manage.

“God. Katya.”

Hysterics tinged the princess’ voice, as she wrenched the heavy door bolt home with a _clang_. As she leant against the locked door, Katya could see the fear painted across Trixie’s face, even in candlelight.

“They know.”

“What do we do?”

“We have to go.” Trixie told her, already scanning the room, deciding what she wanted to take.

“Tonight?”

The princess was already packing, clothes and bags wrenched from the wardrobe.

*

They snuck out under the cover of night, Katya dressed in her old clothes which had been cleaned, carrying half of Trixie’s possessions along with her own. They took the things which Trixie could not part with, and what Katya felt she needed to bring, forced to move a little slow.

Stealing horses was too dangerous, but they did take the time to retrieve Katya’s hidden gold stash, Trixie more grateful than ever for Katya’s supernaturally good sense of direction.

The cover of the forest felt like home, even as wild animals and wind the surroundings unnerving, and they travelled until Trixie physically could not take another step, opting to sleep the few hours to dawn before they kept moving, far enough away that they felt safe from any search parties the king and queen might feel inclined to send once they realised their daughter was missing. Trixie slept curled into the comfort of Katya’s old coat, travel worn and comfortable, face buried into the pirate’s neck. She could feel Katya’s soft breath, imagine the ticking of her mind and the awe on her face, staring up at the heavens, mapping out where they were under those bright constellations.

*

Katya was sheepish, the next morning, when she confessed how much she had stolen from the palace. Enough to start their new lives, provide them with comfortable housing for life and ample food for a few months.

Their future could hold anything, whatever they wanted: peace, excitement, travel, tranquillity. They could go where the wind took them, to piracy, mundanity, or altruism. Trixie could have dresses galore, but also the freedom and honesty she had grown to love. Katya could finally have a family; perhaps just Trixie, or even a new crew of her own, if the princess could be convinced to return to the high seas.

Of course, Trixie couldn’t bring herself to be angry.

What else could she expect, having fallen in love with a pirate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this, please let me know what you thought! Your feeback is always much appreciated x
> 
> Huge thanks to my betas: @boonoir, @legacyremembermyname, and the eternally wonderful: @fookoff. You guys are great!

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to my betas: @boonoir, @legacyremembermyname, and my angelic co-conspirator @fookoff. You guys are great!
> 
> There might be another chapter, if I get round to writing it!


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